Leggings and Cleats
by purecurles
Summary: Amanda - an average football-hater girl and her best friend Clara - the opposite, are getting invited to watch the match between Portugal - Greece. Will Amanda change her feelings towards the hard going sports or stay strictly against it? Will the famous football star Cristiano Ronaldo help her turn her aversion into affection?
1. Chapter 1

„I'm bored." I said, closing my eyes and rubbing them.

"Stop being such an ass. Mike put in so much effort to get us here. Just act like you're interested." Clara murmured, giving me the bad eye.

Yeah, like I'm good in acting either lying. I hate football, soccer, whatever you name it. It's just not my favourite type of sport. It's something boy-like. And now, here I sit along with my best friend Clara, watching some professional Portuguese football stars practice for their upcoming match against Greece. The match takes place in Croydon, England. You'd have to see Clara, as we entered the field. She literally freaked out – luckily, no familiar person was around to notice. Just some people kicking and running after some ball. Ridiculous. And I landed here, cause I'm practically Clara's only best friend – not that's she gets bullied or is unpopular. Her statement is – 'As long as your secrets are small enough for a person to share, you don't need anyone else.' Yeah, hard to understand. Anyways, Mike – her brother-in-law – is working as a cleaner in the men and women locker rooms. And yes, I'm still wondering how the hell did he manage to get us to watch the team practicing. Clara and I are very different. She's more the sports, heavy metal type. I'm more the reading, dancing, being by myself type. Now, we're sitting on a bench, the coaches and team mates during the match are sitting on. Me, literally falling asleep, having my arms crossed, not paying attention on anything except the bright shining sun above our heads. While Clara tapes every move the football people make. She squealed, giggled like a 8-year-old, and waved to get some attention from this overrated people. Urgh.

"Oh my God, look, Pepe is coming over. Oh my God, Holy Mother Of God. Amanda, catch me before I embarrass myself with fainting." She turned to face me, grinning like an idiot. "Get up, he'll think you're not even interested to meet him."

"Which I'm not?' I uttered, not even making an effort to look her way. "Plus, it's way too early for me to pay attention to anything except dreaming of going back to bed."

Clara squatted in front of me, snipping with her fingers. "Am, I beg you to just act nicely. This is very important for me. What if I get invited to the match. Don't you know how cool this is?" She whispered, forcing me to look at her. Pepe was just 5 feet away from us, smiling politely. "Please, just smile and act politely. Do it for me." With these words, she stood back up, turned around and approached Pepe. I didn't even know who that was. Pepe wasn't that tall, bald headed, with full lips. His smile seemed very genuine. I raised up, rolling my eyes and following Clara, who was trembling in excitement.

"Good Morning." Pepe said in broken English, offering his hand to shake. Clara looked like a statue, grinning and staring at him like I don't know who. I nudged her, pointing to him. She gripped his hand and it took a while until she let go.

"I'm Pepe. Nice to meet you both. It's nice to have fans not screaming or shouting our names." He said, smiling at me and offering his hand. I raised both of my eyebrows. Clara noticed and poked me, giving me the bad eye. With a fake smile and a rather strong hand shake, I eyed the other teammates, who were also coming closer. Awesome. Really.

"It's nice to meet you too, Pepe. You don't know how happy we both are, to watch you practice. We both are such huge fans." Clara squealed out, bobbing. I rolled my eyes again, hoped to be unseen. Literally standing in the shadow of Clara's excitement.

"Oh, obrigada. Are you both playing football as well?" Pepe asked, and glanced over his shoulder, to welcome his mates. There were about 5. Not the whole team, I see. And I still didn't know who they were. Like, yeah, football stars. But neither their name nor anything worthy knowing. Clara squealed again, nudging me and pointing to a tall, dark-haired boy, man, I don't know. The main fact is, he definitely looked younger than he actually is, I guess. A huge number 7 coined on his shirt. To be honest, he was very good looking. Though, I would rather die than confess it, since I neither like football nor the players. Firstly he approached Clara, smiling, asking how she was doing. And Clara, not only embarrassing herself but me also, asked for a hug. I shut my eyes tight. Not wanting to watching her humiliating.

"Bom Dia. Thanks for being here. I'm Cristiano." A male voice suddenly said, right in front of me. I shut my eyes open again, faking a smile and shaking his warm hand.

"Yeah, hi. I'm Amanda. Nice shoes." I uttered down, pointing to his shoes.

He flashes a big smile, stifling a laugh. "They're called cleats. These are not the normal shoes you're wearing everyday, you know?" I was impressed by his broken but well used English. Not that many international football stars speak our language that fluently. His hazel brown eyes, looked amused, and his laughing wrinkles just fit perfectly to his tanned face. I had the urge to roll my eyes again, but Clara, glancing at me, shook her head lightly.

"Oh, yeah, right, cleats." I fake smiled again, glancing at the other footballers, who were smirking. Guess, they saw right through me. Oh, well, fine, I don't know a single thing about football. Clearly, Clara did.

"What color are your jersey going to be?" She asked, looking into the crowd for an answer."

"Yellow. For the first time ever." He murmured, giving Clara a polite look. His eyes wandered back to me. "Will you both come to the match?"

I shook my head, raising my hands, as in a I-pass gesture. "No, thank you. I'm not a huge fan of people having those weird shoes on and running after a single ball. Y'all are hurting yourself more than getting tramped by an elephant." Wow, clearly, that was too much. This Cristiano guy and the bald-headed started to laugh, among the others. Only Clara managed to pull up a not convinced smile and a death glare at the same time. She will kill me, for sure.

"Oh, I get it, I get it." The bald-headed uttered, smirking. "That's why you didn't freak out just like your friend did, as we came closer? Not a football lover, ah? I see."

I nodded. Nothing more to explain.

"Well, I think, we all would still love to see you around the match. A bit sarcasm won't harm." Cristiano-guy said, pulling up the right side of his shorts, revealing a muscle-bounded thigh. I acted untouched. But, oh, well, what does he do? Running from Portugal to Ghana?

"Oh my God, is this an official invitation?" Clara squealed again, trying not to jump up and down. This time I just had to roll my eyes while tugging some strands of my middle brown hair behind my ear. Trying to look anywhere except on the players, as I kept having some mental hatred issues against them. Why can't we just leave? Or why can't I just leave? It was getting a bit weird, to be honest. My very comfy jumper and some ol' leggings were absolutely unsuitable right now. While Clara had her jersey on, and those cleats shoots and anything a boy would actually wear.

"Yes, it is. Of course, if you want to go. Otherwise, we can just give the free tickets to other fans, craving for them since years, ah?" Cristiano-guy answered, raising his brows questioningly. His hair was pretty styled but a bit too much, in my opinion. I shrugged, opening my mouth to let out another bad comment about the current situation, but Clara was smart enough to interrupt me.

"Are you kidding? We would love to go. I can't believe you're actually offering us the tickets. They're pretty expensive."

"Well, just come over to the men's room, as soon as we're done with practicing." Pepe smiled politely, nodding at us and running back to the field, scoring some goals by himself. The others followed his sample, just Cristiano-guy still stood there, in front of us, with his hands on his hips.

"So, how did you both get here?" He asked, switching his look between me and Clara. Just his eyes lasted 2 seconds more on me that her.

"My brother-in-law is a cleaner, uh, in the locker rooms and, uh.." Apparently Clara was unable to form real sentences in front of him.

"And the poor guy has to clean after your stinky trash, you leave behind." I ended Clara's saying, smiling rather satisfied. Cristiano-guy turned serious, then bursted out of laughter.

"You don't like football at all, don't you?"

Damn, I set my hopes up way too high, thinking he would get upset. My mood has been ruined now, for sure.

"Do I look like a super-duper-I-will-marry-all-of-you-someday-fan? I don't think so." Fake smiling. Yes. Just one more. Clara turned red. Oops, looked like that was, what she had been dreaming off. Ridiculous. As if. Cristiano-guy raised his hands up, still grinning.

"First girl I meet, saying it straight into my face. Wow, respect." He clapped into his hands, watching me amused.

"_Oi, Ron, você está vindo?_" Someone called from far behind. Cristiano-guy turned around. "Coming." With these words, he left, giving me an amused glance over the shoulder. No idea, what it meant.

Clara turned to face me, looking as furious as I had ever seen her in our entire friendship. Uh-oh. I sat back down on the famous-bench, leaning back, acting like nothing happened. Clara's shadow casted on me, while I didn't dare to look into her eyes again.

"Am, seriously, what the hell was that? Not nice at all, you know? I'm completely speechless, seriously. Seriously, I thought you were my friend and-"

"I am your friend, Clara. Your best friend but-"

"-would support me in any possible way, instead you're embarrass both of us. Don't you know what hard work Mike had to put in effort, just to get us to see them." She continued, not responding to my interrupting. "I've told you everything about this team, looks like it all ran past your ear. I bet they won't even invite us to the match anymore. Thanks to you." Clara ended, looking very disappointed.

Great. I sighed, looking at her now teary eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry, Clara, but I can't just sit here and watch them doing boring things like scoring goals. That's not my thing and you surely know that, I'd rather…" Suddenly, a round shadow appeared right above Clara's head. Coming closer and closer. I dared to take a look behind her, seeing a ball, coming closer with it's full speed. Oh, no, we didn't need that at all. Before, my brain could react, my feet brought me up, pushing Clara aside **and…**

* * *

**So, here is the first chapter of my new story. Got inspired by the current UEFA. hope you like it xo  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**BAM!**

„Meu Deus, is she okay?"

"Amanda! Hey, can you hear me?"

"Get some ice, imediatamente!"

"Am, it's Clara, can you hear me? Am?"

Piercing pain ran through my forehead, as I came back to reality. Everyone babbled way too loud. Wow, what was that? Did someone shoot in my direction? Seriously? I slowly opened my eyes, a couple of heads surrounded me, big eyed.

"Look, she's awake. Where's the ice to cool her forehead?" I heard Clara's voice throughout some boys speaking in Portuguese. Another piercing pain. Ouch. I tried to sit up, but some hands pushed me back to the ground.

"Just don't move, stay there. The shoot might cause a concussion." Cristiano – guy's eyes appeared in front of mine, looking concerned. I raised my hand to touch the bump on my forehead, which was getting more and more huge. Ouch. Someone put a pack of ice on it, which gave me chills, immediately.

"Can I sit up? The ground is getting cold." My voice trailed off, as I looked around into those faces, surrounding my own. I reached out my left hand, without waiting for permission. Two warm hands took mine and pulled me up. Now, I was able to look at everyone clearly. The whole team gathered around me, some looked concerned, some amused, and the others compassionate. Clara sat next to me, pulling me into a side hug.

"Aw, poor you. To be honest, the bump looks horrible on you. Like you're allergic to bee's or anything." She stifled a laugh. Oh, thanks. I looked around, sighing.

"Well, well, who committed this type of crime? Will this criminal admit it now, or should I play Sherlock Holmes on you all?" Eyeing every pair of eyes, trying to guess who the head-shooter was. Clara began to laugh, some boys joining her. They all looked down at that Cristiano-guy, who was chewing on his lower lip, trying his puppy-look on me. He let go off my left hand and raised it – just, did I noticed, he was the one pulling me back up, and the most weird thing he, he didn't let go, until now – smiling apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, I just wasn't focused on the ball, and as I wanted to score, it hit the crossbar and made it's way to you both. Luckily for her", he pointed to Clara. "You kind of saved her from that horrible-looking bump. I'm sorry." He sounded genuinely.

Oh, okay, I was completely off-guard now. Sure, I heard boys/men, whatever, apologize, but never that genuine though. Running a hand through my shaggy hair, I shrugged my left shoulder.

"Well…uh…it's okay, anyways. It's not like you killed me or I had to rush to hospital or something. Isn't the first time something like that happens to me." I uttered down, staring right into his brown orbs. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Clara flashing a cheeky grin. Oh please.

"I'm still sorry, it indeed looks horrible, maybe you should see a doctor." Cristiano-guy said, raising his eyebrows questioningly. He was squatting down in front of me, his hands hanging off his knees casually. I shook my head energetically, thinking of how much I actually hated all these fake-smiling doctors and the smell of hospitals, clearly, I wasn't a huge fan of those.

"No, no, no, it's okay, really. Nothing to worry about." I replied, putting the pack of ice off my forehead. The guys gasped. Seems like the bump has grown a bit. Cristiano-guy leaned closer, observing the growing bump. I could feel his hot breath tickling my cheeks. A tense silence overcame us all, making me shift uncomfortably. I mean, of course I've been in such tight situations before, and I've had several boyfriends already, but something about this was one was different. I just couldn't tell what and why. Cristiano-guy leaned back, giving me one last concerned glance, before standing back up.

"Alright, if you say so." He turned to look at Clara, who was watching us with an amused look. "Please, keep an eye on her. Just in case."

Clara nodded, stifling a wide grin. I merely rolled me eyes, knowing exactly what she was thinking. The boys waved at us, including Cristiano-guy, before rushing off to practice as provided.

I stood back, feeling a bit dizzy. Clara grasped my arm, leading me to the familiar bench. Popping down, I closed my eyes to relax a bit, feeling Clara, settling herself next to me.

"What?" I spat, feeling her eyes on me. She giggled childishly.

"If that was not the cutest thing ever, then I don't know." She exclaimed, shifting in excitement.

"Oh, shut up." I opened my eyes again, glaring at her with utmost disgust. "I'm grateful for his caring, that's all, okay? Just cause he was nice enough to help me, doesn't mean I will turn into a fan of his or football at all, alright?" I snapped. Clara raised her hands in defensive.

"I was just saying, calm down."

I sighed, putting some pressure on the ice-pack, still cooling off my bump. "Sorry."

Clara shrugged. "It's okay, don't worry." She turned around, to finally face the boys practicing, doing her best to fan girl as much as possible.

"So, are you really going?" Clara shrieked into my ear. I sighed desperately, rolling myself off my bed and heading over to the huge mirror hanging upon my beauty-cabinet. Clutching my phone and squeezing it against my left ear, while casually observing my tiring-self, tugging on my out-worn Harry Potter shirt.

"Yes, Clara, yes I am." I mumbled. She squealed in excitement. I could see her jumping up and down.

"And may I ask, why all of a sudden?" She asked again, sounding a bit treacherous. I couldn't help but let out some giggles. Oh, Clara, it's not what you think. I'm just going because I don't wanna let you down, as best friends, originally don't do something like that anyways.

"I promised, didn't I?"

"Yeah…yeah, you did, but I'm still wondering." She giggled. " Is it because of Ronaldo?"

"Who?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly, even though, she couldn't see me.

"Cristiano? That super hot, super incredible, super amazing guy, who took care of you some hours ago? His last name is Ronaldo, keep in mind." She said impatiently. I merely rolled my eyes.

"Ah, this one. And no, I am going because of you, okay?" I snapped irritably.

"Okay, okay, if you say so." Clara replied, still sounding a bit cheeky. "Well, I have to help my mom in the kitchen. See you tomorrow then?"

"Sure, bye. Love you."

"Love you too." She hung up, leaving a never ending peep-tone behind.

Well, I pray the day after tomorrow will go by pretty smoothly. To be honest, I wasn't that keen on going to the upcoming match at all, but breaking a promise wasn't in my schedule too.

I just really hope everything will go fine, without any complications.

_How little did I know, God was about to test me._

* * *

__so here we go with the second chapter. So sorry for the rather short one, but the good thing about it is, you will get a much longer 3rd chapter, as soon as possible. Maybe next week. Please review, as every one of yours inspires me to write on further. And so so sorry, it took me so long. I was just completely busy with stuff at home. Thank you sooo much for the previous reviews, thank you thank you thank you, so effin sweet of y'all. xo


	3. Chapter 3

'_Ah ah ah ah ah who you take for _

_one of them dum dum dum dum dum silly brauds_

_I used to give you, use to give you my all_

_but not the love done, love done gone _

_hey hey hey hey'_

"What the-?" I shut my eyes open in shock, sitting up and looking around furiously.

'_Boy enough is enough_

_I'm just gonna give it up_

_My heart used to be in the way _

_But now I'm through with this love_

_And I can see you don't care_

_And I've had it up to here_

_If I could take all of it back_

_Every little thing that we made'_

My tense darkness of the room lurking around, made me sweat. A huge, artificial, white circle shone through two of my windows at the both sides of my queen sized-bed, throwing scary shadows on the floor. My hand automatically reached out to my night cabinet, grabbing my phone which was buzzing and playing that super annoying song of mine. Though, it was one of my favorites long time ago. I caught a glimpse on the bride white digits on the soft surface of my brand new iPhone. The phone told me it was about 3:12am in the morning. In the effin' morning. Clara's picture was plastered on the screen, right under it, her familiar-to-me number. What the hell? What is it so urgent to tell me about 3-effin-am? I rolled my eyes irritably. Unlocking the screen and pressing 'Answer'.

"Do you know what time is it?" I snapped into the speaker, yawning loudly, as to convince my super annoying best friend, what time it actually was.

"AMANDA YOU WON'T BELIEVE THE SHIT I AM ABOUT TO TELL YOU!" Clara shrieked into my left year, which made me jump in surprise.

"Oh really? Tell me the reason why the fuck you would wanna wake me up at this hour?" I announced, leaning back into my as soft as ever pillow.

"TURN YOUR LAME ASS LAPTOP ON AND CHECK YOUR TWITTER!" She squealed impatiently. Oh God, why am I even friends with her again?

"Why should I? And stop screaming? It's 3 fucking am and why in hell are you even awake?"

"Just check your twitter, damn it and stop asking those super ass irrelevant questions, okay?"

She snapped at me, more impatient than before. Jesus Crist. I groaned in anger, rolling myself off bed and hoping onto my feet, searching for my slippers. My old laptop was placed on top of my fantasy books, on my table, right next to my huge wardrobe. I flicked open the smooth electronic, pushing the button to turn on my laptop. Clara was still breathing heavily from her outburst, murmuring some soft cuss words under her breath. Seriously, that woman. The screen flashed black, before showing off my embarrassing background of Clara and me in the ol' good kindergarten. I bent down, touching the smooth surface and letting the white arrow curser glide across my screen, pushing the Firefox icon several times. The Google homepage popped up, I clicked through some of my tabs, finally opening the twitter homepage. My timeline was flooded with Clara's non-understandable tweets. She definitely was excited about something.

_**claraatkins1: HOLY SHIT THIS HAS GOT TO BE THE MOST INCREDIBLE THING EVER HAPPENEN TO ME AJHGLAJKHDFUWHFKASHFB wow**_

_**claraatkins1: iAmandasucks WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? JUST COME ONLINE AND SEE WHAT YOUR LOVE TWEETED AWAY OKAY JHSGBHJAHJFS**_

Oh geez, what was this girl even talking about? I scrolled through my timeline, only to receive another fan girl tweets of Clara. Does she even go to bed or?

"So, I'm on, what now?" I announced lazily, yawning just to let her know how tired I still felt.

"Okay, okay, just go to my account and scroll down a bit, there should be a couple of tweets I retweeted some hours ago, alright?" She breathed into the speaker.

"Alright." I mumbled. Her Twitter account flashed my screen, revealing several new tweets and a couple of retweets of hers. I scrolled down, scratching my right thigh absentmindedly. There. A couple of complete odd tweet has been retweeted by her. I didn't pay attention to the tweest itself, just the so little icon of the person, who indeed tweeted this ones, was fairly familiar to me.

"I found it, what now?" I murmured, clearing my throat as quiet as possible, as both my parents and my older brother were asleep next door.

"Have you read it?" Clara asked, still impatiently. I merely rolled my eyes, finally observing the tweet she referred to.

_**Cristiano: Met some genuine funny fans tonight. Have to admit, you guys never disappoint me with your kind of humor.**_

_**Cristiano: Had the honor to invite those both to our upcoming match. Now speaking to the fan who I managed to hurt, through out our practice.**_

_**Cristiano: If you're reading this right now, I am still so sorry for that accident. I hope you're doing fine. See you tomorrow. **_

My eyes widened and my free hands clasped the ends of my sleeping shirt. What the hell? Oh wow.

"And, and, and? Have you read it?" Clara screamed into my ear. I swallowed hard almost choking on my own saliva. I was speechless, completely and utterly speechless.

"MANDY!" She screamed again.

"Yes, I've read it. Wow, I'm kind of…speechless?" I announced, completely off-guard.

"I KNOW I KNOW! Like, the whole twitter is freaking out right now! Everyone's going crazy for that 'fan'! They're asking themselves, who that mysterious girl could be." She squealed, I could almost see her jumping up and down around her room. "Amanda, he was obviously, 100% talking about you and your irrelevant-now dumb, okay?"

I managed to fake a grin, even though she couldn't see me. "Wow, um…now I've seen it. Can I please like…um…go to bed now?" Instead of hearing Clara's annoying voice uttering down a harsh reply, of how of a bitch I am, there was complete silence at the other end of the phone. "Clara?"

"Are you fucking serious right now, Amanda?" She snapped. Uh oh. I could feel a never ending rant coming on. "Do you fucking realize what just happened? Cristiano fuck-me Ronaldo just indirectly mentioned you in his tweets, apologizing for the thousandth time. And the least you could probably reply to this is 'Can I go back to bed now?' What the fuck is wrong with you? Do not dare to tell, you think he isn't any attractive! And the fact he even spoke to you nor tweeted about you nor took care of you is the most phenomenal thing ever, do you fucking understand me?"

"Stop cursing, damnit." I tried to interrupt her, but didn't have a chance to actually ring through her so-irrelevant rant.

"And you're acting like you don't even give a single fuck. But to be completely honest with you, I know you do. You're just like a complete dork, trying to cover up your true being, which is: you actually love football more than anything on this worth-living planet and you're actually totally in effing love with Ronaldo, okay?" There was a tense pause. I couldn't help but burst out into loud giggles. Clara joining in after some seconds.

"You-are-the-most-outrageous-friend-ever." I gasped through my laughter.

"Some-parts-of-my-rant-where-bloody-true-alright?" Clara managed to bring up, herself still laughing too.

"I guess you were speaking up for yourself, then. Cause not a tiny thing described me in any possible way, okay? Just don't force me to go all WWE on you, once I get you." I replied, calming myself already. Clara giggled once more into the speaker, before clearing the throat.

"Of course, sure, yeah, Am. We both know how much you actually die to see Cristiano again."

"Oh, sure. I so cannot wait." I merely rolled my eyes, shutting my laptop before heading over to my bed, popping down and cuddle myself into it. The clock upon my door told me it was 4am already. My eyes itched awfully. "Clara, I hope you're aware of the time, are you? Cause we have to wake up at 7:30 for your damn match, okay?" I snapped tiringly.

"Of course.. Who do you think I am?"

"A super annoying best friend, who woke me up for just checking on some lame ass tweets of that…what was his name again?"

Clara huffed. "Seriously, Am, as often as I talk about him, be nice and remember his name for once, would you?"

"Okay, okay. Cristiano Ronaldo, right? I'll keep in mind, from now on." I whispered, shutting my eyes and sighing in relief.

"Well, it's late or should I say early. I'll pick you up at 8am, eh? Just don't you forget." I heard Clara mumble a bit too loud in to my ear as I felt myself getting dizzy and drifting off into careless dimension of dreams.

"Hm-mh." I mumbled before zooming out.

* * *

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my Jesus Christ! Look at all those Ronaldo T-Shirts, this is hella dedication, okay?" Clara was shrieking, beaming around, pointing to several people going along with us, through the gate of the famous Croydon's stadium. There were a great number of people leading and following us into the seats, each and every one of them chatting in excitement. We entered the huge hall, making our way to the seats we were given to. My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open as we strutted into the VIP lobby. Wow, to be honest, I was hella impressed by this. Not gonna lie. Clara gave me a wide knowing grin, knowing exactly what I was thinking. I looked around excitedly, observing every inch of the little room. There was a small table placed in the middle of it, as well as four little stools at the each side of it. A rather huge cabinet hung upon a bar island, it had a rather caramel color and seemed very inviting. There also were two armchairs placed right in front of the huge window. I made my way to it, looking out and gleaming around, watching every person, fan, not fan, you name it, popping down on their seats and chatting excitedly. The pitch was unbelievable green, and the Portuguese team as well as the Greece one, were running around the field, practicing before the match. I backed up a little, feeling the soft edge of the armchair hitting my upper leg before I sat down, relaxing a bit. Loud music was playing outside the VIP room. I was brooding about what song was playing at that exact moment, seeming very familiar to me.

"Gosh, I am so excited. And I swear to God, if Greece wins I'll cut a bitch." Clara announced happily, settling herself right next to me.

Aah, it was 'End of Days' by Vinnie Pa2 featuring Block McCloud. To be quite honest, I loved this song. Rocking my head to the beat of the song, I closely watched the team players of Greece. Scrunching my nose and observing each and every of their players.

"Well, to be quite honest, the Portuguese players look so much better than the Greek ones." I put out, forcing myself to look at Clara, who was bouncing at the edge of the armchair, biting her bottom lip and blinking. She slowly turned her head into my direction, a sly smile creeping itself onto her gorgeous face. She wiggled her eyebrows at me, before tugging at her Pepe jersey she was wearing.

"You say it." She replied monotony before directing her gaze back to the pitch. I smoothed out my bright blue blouse, scratching at the itchy surface of my holey jeans. After waiting for about several 15 minutes, people yelling and screaming and cheering, tearing me away from the thoughts. Clara stood up, me following her behind. We approached the huge window, leaning ourselves against it and staring out down at the pitch. Portuguese and Greek players slowly poured out of the gate to their locker rooms. I looked around the stand of people, who were cheering at the top of their lungs, wearing several Portuguese shirts and waving their flags. I squinted over to the yellow-clothed team players, searching for a familiar one. There he was. The Cristiano Ronaldo, standing broadly, smiling smugly at the left hand side of the line. The half of the stand of people, immediately stood up, placing their right hand on their heart and singing along to the Portuguese national hymn. Clara was beaming and grinning as huge as ever. I merely rolled my eyes. The Greek national hymn has been rattled off. The final whistle was heard, before everyone sat down straight and the players ran to their original places. I was keeping an eye on that strange Cristiano-guy, who strut down the pitch with a multiple of self-confidence. He rubbed his hands, took a deep breath while looking down at his feet and saying a little prayer, for this game to run a race, before slowly looking up, directing his gaze into my direction. Never blinking once, a genuine smile crept onto his tanned face. My heart stopped before striking and beating heavily in my rib cage. Did he…did he just really smiled at me…me? Throughout all the people gathering around him, and all the fans cheering? I could see Clara turn into my direction, from the corner of my eyes, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

"Did he just…I mean…is this real life?" She gasped, gulping heavily. I shook my head and shrugged both of my shoulders.

"Um…not sure."

" Coentrão is the third most gorgeous player on this entire planet." Clara squealed in happiness as she jumped up and down, hugging me off like some freak. The current position showed Portugal 1:0 Greece. And Coentrão was the first to open up the score. I forced myself to smile weakly, standing my ground. The game was slowly passing by, and finally, someone managed to open the damn score. On the 32nd minute of the match. The crowd was crying, cheering and screaming. Ridiculous I tell y'all. My arms rested on the rod, which separated us from the huge window. I was bored, and there was nothing I could do to change that. Clara has been 'mobbing' me because of the little incident before the match. I assured her, that Cristiano-guy was just being cross-eyed and looked into my direction accidently, but she wouldn't drop that topic for about 20 minutes. I myself was quite sure, he absentmindedly just looked around and caught a glimpse of the VIP lobby we were currently sitting in. Just a coincidence, but of course, as stubborn as Clara is, she wouldn't believe a damn single thing. My eyes followed the tall Greek player, who was currently racing along the pitch, having the ball in his mastery. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Miguel came rushing past, doing a complicated trick and block out the Greek player, finally getting the ball himself. He changed his movement, running in the right direction. Passing to Nani, who passed back to Postiga and who passed further to Ronaldo. I perked up, not exactly knowing why. The crowd cheered ever so loud. Cristiano-guy made his way around several Greek players, the crowd gasping and screaming in excitement and expectation. Their faces were shining with hope. My body tensed up, I shifted from my left foot to my right. Clara was murmuring to herself, probably praying. I bit my lower lip, chewing on it. Okay, I didn't know why I was that nervous. Like, I didn't even like football nor the player, who was about to score. Maybe or not. But still, the football-cheering atmosphere took over me immediately. Cristiano-guy was about 5 feet away from the gate. He abruptly stopped. Taking a deep breath, withdrawing his right foot and shooting away with ball with as much strength as possible. Everyone around stopped breathing, including me.

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HE DID IT HE DID IT HE FUCKING DID!" I screamed on top of my lungs, dancing away reaching out to hug Clara, who was screaming as loud as I was. The crowd went completely nuts. Someone outta the stadium would have though an earthquake was about to start. I turned to face the huge screen, which was streaming the football players going numb. The view zoomed in on Cristiano-guy who was being hugged and tackled down by his teammates. He had a genuine smile spread across his face, laughing. The teammates stood back up, dragging him up too. He then turned to face the camera-man who was running around the pitch, filming everyone. Cristiano leaned in, beaming right into the lens, before flashing a seductive smile, putting his right hand to his lips and sending off an air kiss. It was as if his eyes were staring right into my soul. He then turned his face into my direction, raising his left hand waving genuinely. I felt like every pair of eyes was staring through the glass window right at me, including Cristiano himself and Clara, plus all of the Portuguese team players. My heart dropped and started racing immediately.

* * *

**okay, here we go with a rather long chappy. Hope you like it. and thank you to CaribbeanTrinidadian & camilasullivan for reviewing my last chapter. You guys rock. xo**


	4. Chapter 4

I gulped a rather huge amount of saliva down, blinking twice at the large screen, hanging above the pitch. Clara was screaming right next to me, though I tried to fade her out, as I was staring right at him, complete shock painted my face. A tiny bit of wonder, confusion, desperate and desire. Even though, I would never ever in my entire life, admit the last feeling. Like I said, this incident set me off-guard. Utter shock and confusion. I still felt like every pair of eyes glanced right at me, with less or more confusion written on their faces. A whistle was heard, announcing the half, as every team player trailed down the pitch to their lock rooms. Cristiano-guy gave me a last look before following Nani, who called on him. As soon as he left the pitch, I awoke out of my weird trance, blinking a few times, before slowly as to not confuse myself even more, turned around and eyed Clara.

"Did he…did he just…um…me? Me? Blew a kiss? No? Wait-" I question before Clara held up her right hand flustered, interrupting me.

"Amanda Ginebra Walker, the most successful, famous, hottest, best footballer of the world just blew you a fucking kiss and winked at you in front of everyone to see and you doubt your fucking eyes? Stop fooling yourself, he's so into you, Am, alright?! Wait, I myself cannot believe what I'm actually blabbing." She shrieked at the top of her lungs, making me wide my eyes even more. No way, did she just used my middle name. The most embarrassing thing ever. And just for your information, only the closest friends – and Clara's practically the only one - and family members are aware of my middle name. Ginebra is a Spanish version of Geneva. My grandmother came up with that idea, as she had a favourite actress named Ginebra, back when she was little. Thanks, grams. Really.

I shook my head, exhaling slowly. "Clara, just calm down, he definitely did that to someone else, who sat closely by our lobby. Stop overreacting, okay? Geez." I merely rolled my eyes, a scoff escaping from my lips as I crossed my arms across my now heavy chest. I wasn't even sure what I was saying there, myself, how could I convince Clara then?

"Oh, shut up you dork. You don't know shit, eh? Are you actually blind or something? I can see right through you and I also know when you're lying. Plus the way Ronaldo acts around you proves every so little thing-"

"What act? We've met just once and that was two days ago, it's not like I'm about to see him again, expect for today. He will fly home as soon as this game ends, stop convincing yourself the opposite. Seriously, Clara, I sometimes doubt your intelligence and how you even put up with all of the final exams! And last, I do not, in any way or shape like him, nor his ridiculous team nor his dumb job, okay? He's such an arrogant, self-loving prick, enjoying the way women all other world are throwing themselves at him, as if he were a God himself or anything. And I just accompanied you, because I promised and as far as I know, best friends don't break their promised. And stop with all this shit you're trying to grease on me, because it's not working. Thank you for believing in your, 'best friend'. I don't even understand how you dare to accuse me about such a thing. You know exactly how I feel about boys and men. Don't you remember the way Drew treated me back then? Do you not remember all those scars and wounds he happened to leave on my face and body? I do not care in the slightest, if that Ronaldo guy is different, all I know is, I would never date a man in my entire life again. I might even turn lesbian now, okay?" Shaking my head, and signalizing her I was just out of my mind for saying the last thing. Trying to catch my breath, I eyed a framed picture of an island behind her. "Do I have to remind me, what Drew's favourite kind of sport was?" I dared to give her a sharp glance. Clara nodded and shook her head at the same time, knowing the answer already. She opened her mouth for an intelligent remark, but I interrupted her once again.

"Just leave it, okay? Just…urgh!" With a last glance at her, I turned to the door, heading straight and stormed out without waiting on her response.

Raging like never before, I raced down the never ending stairwell. The back of my eyes pitched dangerously, announcing a huge tsunami to flood out. Just not risking to look up and break down in tears, I happened to bump into someone tall figure, which sent me back, almost tripping and landing onto the sharp edge of the stairs. Without glancing up, I murmured a quiet "Sorry.", before rushing past that one person, on my way down.

"Amanda, wait, please!" I heard a voice exclaim from up the stairs. I stopped to look up and spotted Clara's redden face, gaping through the banister space. Her eyes traveled to the left and her mouth fell open at the sight of someone. I followed her gaze.

My heart stopped for a second. There he was, standing just a couple of stairs a head of me, a rather confused and sympathetic look on his face. Sweat was dropping low his face and his ruffled up, hair. He was clinging the edge of his jersey and his eyes darted from me and back to Clara. I blushed, biting my bottom lip before scooting down. Clara managed to yell after me, some more, but I was out of the stairwell already. This was not only embarrassing but horrible and awful and embarrassing and awful and just urgh. God is testing me again, just why today? Seriously.

* * *

**a rather shorty short short chappy, but I just wanted to let y'all know, the reason Amanda didn't like football nor fell for Cristiano's little flirt attacks. and i'm sooo sorry for the less amount of it, okay? School started for me, on Thursday, and as it's 11th grade, it's much harder and more complicated to find time, sit down and write a single chapter. and i'm sorry in advance, if I don't update fast enough. I just try, really. thanks for reviewing and reading. xo**


	5. Chapter 5

„Hey." I murmured silently as observing Clara's tiring figure. She wore a pair of bright green, short panties and a simple black tank top. Her naturally red hair was pinned up in a messy bun. She had some huge circles drawn under het dark-brown eyes, but she still managed to flash a genuine smile.

"Hello, come in." Clara stepped aside, allowing me to walk in before walking past and making her way up the stair well to her classy room. To be quite honest, I have never ever seen Clara's room being all chaotic and untidy, compared to my own. It was all pinky and fluffy, just disgusting to me. Never liked pink and probably never will, I am sure of that. I'm much into those untypical colors. And I even doubted my actual gender at times. No, okay I was just joking. I sat down on her large king sized bed, right across her room. She plopped down onto the floor, some feet away from me. Well, that was awkward. It's been a whole week since the little incident at the match, and we haven't talked for 7 straight days, which hadn't happened since several years. Hence those huge circles under her eyes. Poor Clara, I never meant to bark at her like that nor ignore her calls the whole week. The thing about my behavior is, once I get myself thinking about the past, there's no way to back out for some days. I was, seriously not able to just let her see me like that. Of course she is my best friend – the one and only friend – but there is one thing she doesn't know: I fear the opposite gender. I do and there's nothing to do about it. The way Drew – my ex – treated me back then, kind of traumatized me. No, I haven't talked to anyone about it, but Clara has been a witness sometimes. Though she probably has tried to talk to me about it, but as stubborn as I am, no way to get there.

"Well…" I attempted to dry out a genuine apology. "Look, I'm sorry for going ballistic on you that day, alright? I know, I shouldn't have freaked out and yell around, I was just…Y'know…I knew you were kidding, it just drove me crazy, the fact you kept on going and going. Like…" I shrugged, grimacing. Clara eyed me nonchalantly, nodding once. She stood up, approaching me and reaching out both of her arms for a hug. It felt like everything was back to normal. No other words needed to be swapped between us, we understood.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

'_You have a new text message.'_

I pressed '_Open_' and read.

**guess whos coming back to Croydon effing England in two days? **

Oh Clara, as if I'm even interested. I typed back a simple text back.

**and who?**

Within a minute, I received another one from her. Seemed like she was just expecting me to care who was about to 'come back'. Dear Lord.

**Cristiano fuck me Ronaldo u happy rnt u? guess what that means? **

My heart sunk into my jeans, as I was driving the bus back home. Had the desire to go and rummage through some old classics in my favorite library, which was some blocks away from me. Luckily, I found two or three. Now, I could spend my weekend, just chilling out in the sun and read them all. No work for me, hell to the yes. It was my second work-year at the accessories shop and I really enjoyed it there, even though it was all too, too, too girly- like. I still lived with my parents and I wasn't about to move out there, sounds cheesy and clingy, but they didn't mind. Being 21 and independent seemed harsh to me. I don't know. Sure, people judged me because I didn't go to college nor any university, but that wasn't my plan since I was in 7th grade. I just wanted to work and not to sit my ass off every day and every night, brood about anything school related. Not my job to do.

I gulped, before typing a quick response.

**should a give any fuck?**

I admit, seems harsh, but Clara's used to it anyways. My phone vibrated, announcing another new text.

**oh shut up guess whos going to see them practicing again? U **

It's been 3 weeks since I last seen him, that super embarrassing incident at the match, just gave me chills. And I was so not looking forward to see him again in any shape or form. Okay?

**NO WAY not going. ferreal I am super busy with work and things**

Not even going there. No.

**sorry babez everythings set up already. we been keeping in touch, just fyi and he invited us over again lol hes so into you Am, jashdfjuhahhasghfhhaij**

I hate repeating myself, but no. No, just no. Out of frustration, I press the '_Call_' button and waited for het to pick up.

"Are you mentally sick or something?" I spat. People sitting across for me and around, perked up, eyeing me irritated. Oh shut up.

"A hello to you too, lovely." Clara uttered down, clearly stifling a laugh. So not funny. I merely rolled my eyes.

"How the hell did you both 'keep in touch', if I may ask?" I barked, my body tensing up.

"Twitter, he followed me, out of all sudden. No idea where he got my username or any information, anyways. And DMed me afterwards." She squealed. I had to keep my phone off my ear for some endless seconds, as her shrieks burned my effing mind. No way, I seriously couldn't stand that girl at times. She even managed to ruin my mood after spending several hours at the library.

"I'm not going." I said tautly.

"Yes, you are." Clara spat sheepishly.

"No way."

"Yes way."

"No."

"Yes, of course."

"Definitely not."

"Oh, believe me. You are going, end of the conversation."

"CLARA-" She hung up on me. That woman seriously hung up on me. Dear God, please have mercy with me. As soon as I get that little-

Beep Beep Beep.

'_You have a new text message.'_

Not another one. I sighed, rolling my eyes.

_From Clara:_

**hanging up on you is kinda funny sorry not sorry anyways, he just tweeted about coming here in two days, just find something more sexy and appropriative to wear aight? Anyways, ill pick u up at 8:45am so get ready, luv u deuces**

My life sucks.

* * *

A hollow tap. Another one. And another one. Getting louder and louder. Never-ending. Knock knock knock. Louder. Louder. Another one. Knock. Knock. I was falling. Falling hard. The darkness was about to swallow me when-

I sat up. Dizziness overcame me immediately. Wow, what the hell was that? My eyes pitched because of the bright light shining through the gap of my blinds. I felt sick, a stony breeze was crawling up my spine and my nose felt like a huge cotton pad. My lips were dry as the middle of the desert.

Knock knock knock. Not again. I glanced around my light blue painted room, observing every inch of it. Knock knock knock. What the hell? Another pair of knocks, finally dawned on me. Someone was knocking on our front door and my parents probably went to the fish market. On a Sunday morning. Hell no. I rolled over my bed, bouncing warily before tapping to the door and down the stairs. Not even daring to look into the large mirror right next to the door, I reached for the know and tore it open. A flood of morning sunshine dazzled me for a few seconds, as soon as my eyes got used to the bright light, they found the amused face of Clara herself. She wore some beige hot pants and a bright white blouse, rocking flats. Her red hair has been straightened and pinned up into a loose ponytail. She grinned at me.

"Rise and shine, love. I see you held your promise about not coming alone. Since I'm already here, you have no choice." She walked past me, up to my room. I rubbed my jammed nose. I'm sick, for sure. Maybe that's a great excuse for not going? Please, please, please. I followed Clara into my room, which was a complete mess compared to her perfect one. She sat down on the edge of my unmade bed, glancing around in disgust. A grin creeped onto my face. Nice.

She exhaled. "Well, go take a shower and get ready. It's", she took a look onto her beamingly neon yellow watch. "8:00am. You better hurry up. Go, go, go."

I crossed my arms, eyeing her irritated. Who the hell she thinks she is. My mom? I merely shook my head.

"Clara, how many times am I going to repeat it? . , okay? Just leave it." I barked, leaning against the doorframe.

Clara stood up, making her way over to me. She glanced me up and down, wrinkling her nose.

"We've got some work to do. Get showering."

I shook my head stubbornly.

"Go, Amanda. I'm serious." She said irritated.

I only shook my head again, challenging her patience. She reddened with anger. Oops.

"Amanda Ginevra Walker, I said you better should get showering, because I won't repeat one more time." She snapped through clenched teeth. I raised both of my eyebrows. What?

"Are you my mother, for fuck's sake?" I snapped back.

She huffed. "Am, just do this for me, okay? He invited us, we can't just not come. What will he think of us? That's like the most disrespectful thing ever."

"Clara, we both know how much I care about his opinion, whether we show up or not." I rolled my eyes. "You see, not at all."

"I swear to God, if you don't go showering right now and get ready, then come along with me, I refuse to talk to you for whole 3 months. Just wait and see. Do not even challenge me, because at least, I keep my promises." She whispered with a deathly glare. Ouch. I opened my mouth to spit a sharp response back, but held myself back. I already managed to hurt her the last time we went to that stupid match. Not that she didn't hurt me too, she just didn't know. I slowly turned around, making my way to the bathroom and smacking the door behind me as loud as possible.

* * *

"Muito bem! Fora, fora, fora! Tiro!"

Clara and I entered the pitch, holding up our hands and protecting our eyes from the bright shining sun. I was dressed in a loose one-shouldered turquoise shirt and black skinny jeans, rocking flip flops. My hair has been pinned up into a strict ponytail. I didn't feel that comfortable, but as long as Clara was happy.

"Bom dia!" Clara suddenly yelled out, making me jump. My eyes widened at her sudden lack of Portuguese. Guess that girl wanted to impress. Good job for now. Several people turned into our direction. I observed some younger looking guys, dressed into the Portuguese jersey. Some fans or rather new team players. Not keeping up with all that football shit. Clara nudged me, carefully pointing to the left, where some familiar looking guys jogged down the pitch, clearly into our direction too. My heart stopped. Guess who was among them. Cristiano-guy-Ronaldo. He was grinning broadly, his hair was perfectly styled and he wore a shirt? Top? A muscle shirt? No idea what it looked like. Pepe was making his way towards us too. And several other guys, I recognized.

"Hi lots." Clara breathed out, beaming excitedly. Someone off the pitch would have though she escaped a mental-sick hospital or something. I chuckled, getting a weird look from her.

"Bom dia, ladies. Nice to see you here again." Pepe smiled at us warmly, before walking over to Clara and closing her into a warm hug. I could see her cling onto his jersey. Oh God, please do not let her not only embarrass herself but me also.

"Welcome 'home'." A rather nice looking boy uttered down, happening to be Miguel. The others laughed, including Clara. I just awkwardly stood there, observing the situation from far behind. And I swear on my books, I could feel Cristiano-guy looking at me, which made me blush slightly. Pepe stepped over to me, glancing at me questioningly, his arms extended. He was asking for hug, as if I was about to chop his bald head off. I almost rolled my eyes, but resisted the urge, and half hugging his side. Some other players did the same with me and Clara, just my body was all tensed up. Cristiano-guy was the last to hug. Clara was reddened with excitement and small talking with the others, I noticed her cast some glances my way, as Cristiano-guy fully turned to me, his eyebrows raised and his whites showing off. Not gonna lie, he looked irresistible.

"Bom dia, menina. Nice having you here again. I missed your sarcastic responses." He uttered down, his voice as soft as cotton. Oh, dude. What the hell am I thinking about? I jolted myself a tiny bit, a deep blush creeping onto my face, before stretching out my left hand. Furrowing his eyebrows confused, he looked down at my perfectly polished hand. I cleared my throat, as to make sure he was still present. His smile vanished, he just took my hand and shook it firmly before letting go, without looking at me once. Looked like I hurt him. Score. An amused smile wrote itself on my face. I turned over to look at Clara, who was sending me several death glares. I just shrugged in response as if saying 'It was your idea to bring me along'.

"Okay, who's up for some little game?" A tall, dark haired guy spoke up, who happened to be Alves. He flashes a grin, observing every one of us. Clara shrieked in agreement, the others murmured. I opened my mouth to protest.

"Amanda would LOVE to play too. She can't wait to challenge some of you, right? Right Amanda?" Clara pressed up, a fake smile plastered on her face. Every pair of eyes was glued onto me. How could I say no?

I nodded once, forcing myself to smile irritated. Pepe clapped in excitement.

"Okay, the last thing we have to do is to split us all into two teams. Ron, you're the captain of the Team…um…Underdogs." Everyone laughed, Pepe grinning smugly. "And I say, Nani is the captain of the Hawks, alright?" Everyone nodded, I just resisted to laugh at them all. How childish are they?

Cristiano-guy and Nani positioned themselves in front of us, eyeing each and every one.

"Pepe, of course." Cristiano-guy breathed out, smiling broadly.

"Roland, come here, man." Nani laughed out.

"Oi, Postiga."

"Fábiooooo!"

They kept selecting their team mates. As soon as they all gathered their teams, they glanced between me and Clara, smugly. We both were the last ones to choose. It was Nani's turn to select. Dear God, please have mercy with me. I will do everything you ask for, I swear, just please, please, please-

"Clara, come over." He finally spat out, grinning broadly. My heart sunk into my skinny jeans. Thank you very much.

Everyone chuckled, looking and waving at me to come over. I slowly strutted over, lining myself behind Cristiano-guy, who threw me a smug grin.

I swear, God had fun punishing me.

* * *

**well, here you go with the 5th chapter. Hope you enjoy reading it. I'll try and post another one on Sunday. I hope everything goes well and I will be able to something down. Thank you so much for every single review. Thank you thank you thank you. I know I'm not that great in writing, but as it's my first story, I guess it's alright at first. Thank you again for taking time and leaving a review. Means sooooo much to me. xoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

„Alright, we'll be playing 15 minutes, because I do not think our ladies are going to survive the 45 half." Nani pressed out, eyeing both Clara and me suspiciously. We stood in the middle of the pitch, the 'Underdogs' and the 'Hawks' facing each other. Cristiano-guy – our leader- stood in front of me, his arms crossed. I myself stood my ground barefoot, rocking some football pants as Pepe was nice enough to borrow me those ones. Clara, as organizational as she is, wore her own jersey along with some boots? Cleats? No idea.

I scoffed at Nani's comment, merely rolling my eyes which obtained looks from the opposite team. Clara threw a knowing grin my way.

"I say, let the game begin." Pepe yelled out from far behind me. Everyone yelled back in agreement, clapping their hands. The ball was placed in the middle of the pitch, both Nani and Cristiano-guy surrounding it. A whistle was heard, before Nani managed to distract Cristiano while shooting the ball into his team's direction. Okay, let's go then. Show 'em what you got, Amanda. I told myself. Inhaling and exhaling a few times before taking a run-up and rushing past Cristiano-guy who was jogging down the pitch. Clara's was having the ball now, trying some professional tricks. I chuckled, she looked ridiculous. Slightly, trying not to catch her attention, I stopped behind her, observing her moves, before tripping forward, blocking her out and taking the ball in my control. As soon as I let her behind, Pepe caught up next to me, grinning widely. Pure impression was written all over his face.

"Pass!" He breathed out. I did what he said, while he rushed past me, making his way to the opposite's gate. Taking a run-up, he shot with all his the strength he got. Beto was focusing on the speeding circle, he bend forward, reaching out both of his hands.

_Bam_. Damn it. A couple of irritated 'aw's were heard from our opposite's team. Beto did a good job holding down the ball and not letting it get through. I noticed Pepe freaking out playfully. Someone patted my shoulder. I perked up. Nani was eyeing me eagerly, nodding.

"As much as you 'hate' football, have to admit you're pretty good for now." He uttered down. I flashes a huge smile.

"Thanks, to be honest: I do not really hate football that much. Just at times, y'know?"

He nodded, before sounding off, and walking away.

The ball was placed in the middle again and the boys chose Clara and Me to surround it. I was kinda nervous. It was my 'first non-serious game' after playing so many times with Drew just for fun. He was a die-hard fan of FC Arsenal. And he managed to get me to play with him sometimes. So here I am, showing off a bit of what I've learned during my relationship with him. A whistle was heard again. Clara took off, having the ball in her control. Guess I got carried away, wow. I ran after her, trying to keep up. Several boys screamed and cheered, some wolf-whistles among them. Just then I noticed my shorts sliding down my hips slowly. I stopped out of all sudden, a deep blush creeping up my face. My bright yellow panties were shown off. Oh my God, how embarrassing. Too bad I was much skinnier and smaller than Pepe, of course his shorts wouldn't fit me at all. And the waistband was as huge as a whole toilet seat. Plus the twine was already tied, too firm for me. A dark-haired figure squatted down in front of me. I looked closely. Oh, how lovely.

Cristiano-guy put my hands aside, trying to untie the firm tie, as everyone walked by, running after the ball, which was possessed by Meireles, who was in our team.

I felt Cristiano-guy's warm skin touching my belly, as I held the edge of my turquoise shirt up, easier for him to struggle with the twine of my shorts. To be quite honest, it was pretty adorable of him to help me. The yellow waistband of my panties were exposed, which caused me to blush deeply. Finally, he managed to untie the firm knot, before pulling the shorts up a bit, while touching my bare hips with his warm huge hands. I felt pretty small in his grip. My heart stopped and started racing every time his fingertips brushed over my skin. He then, tied the twine again, not too firm before he rose up and backed off, keeping some distance between us. It seemed like he was doing so, because I didn't like him and he knew it. I grasped my shirt back down, hiding my already-seen stomach.

"Um…thank you." I murmured quietly, forcing myself to smile. Though, it didn't seem that genuine to Cristiano, as his eye pupils darkened all of a sudden. He nodded once, before detaching himself off me. Weird guy.

I looked around, eyeing the current situation. Hugo possessed the ball at the moment, and everyone, literally went after him. Including myself. I guess the current stood 2:1 for us, which made me grin smugly. Pepe and Postiga were the ones to score into our opposite's team gate. And only Coentrão was able to score at our gate.

Rushing past Clara, who was sweating and breathing heavily, I appeared behind Hugo, who was standing his ground and tried to trick poor Pepe. I dove right under his arms, before breaking away, possessing the ball. Screams of surprise sounded off. And our enemy tried to chase me. Someone grasped my arm, trying to stop me. Tearing away as hard as possible, I made a quick turn into the right direction. Clara caught up with me, laughing at the top of her lungs. I grinned at her and winked sheepishly. She pushed me slightly, trying to possess the ball. I passed over to the next running figure. Doubting my decision for a second, before I noticed it was Cristiano who was running along with me. Then he sped off, Clara stopped suddenly, holding her head in both of her hands, watching Cristiano go all ballistic on the gate. And then-

"_YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!_" He screamed, running a circle. I cheered excitedly, jumping up and down like a little kid. Every one of our team hurried to get on Cristiano and congratulate him playfully. I approached him happily, as he hugged every one of our team players and laughed enjoying the attention. Pepe was screaming, clenching onto Cristiano's like a monkey. He then noticed my presence, letting go of them all and turning around to face me. A huge grin appeared on my face. I mean, there was a reason I smile. We practically scored together, right? I help up my right hand for him to high five. He furrowed his brows in confusion, doubting me. Suddenly, he bent forward, gripping my thighs and throwing my tiny figure over his shoulders. Loud laughter set off, rising up with every second. I was bouncing on his shoulder, feeling his warm hands on my thighs as I screamed and begged for mercy playfully. Though, in the back of my mind, I was kind of irritated. How dare he pick me up like that? Just because we teamed up and both kind of scored doesn't mean he had a right to do something like that. Seriously. But that was just the back of my mind. Just the back. But the my actual mind told me to carry myself away for some endless minutes, enjoying the triumph. People kept tapping my back, while I hung up there, my hands pounding on Cristiano's back, begging him to leg go off me. He was running in circles, laughing genuinely. I cried playfully, as he pinched my hips and thighs. Finally, after a century, he let me down. I tripped a bit, feeling dizzy as I held onto his shirt carefully. His laughed down at me.

"Oh, shut up!" I cried, chuckling. He imitated me, grimacing a shocked face.

"What did you just say, menina?" He snapped playfully. I eyed him suspiciously. Uh oh.

"I told you to shut up." I whispered, drawing out every word as slowly as possible.

"No way." He whispered back, before reaching out to me. I jerked and backed away, grinning sheepishly. "Come here." He whispered smugly. I shook my head, backing off. He reached out again, enough to grip my hand and twirl me around, which caused me to trip over my bare feet and fall over. I screamed in surprise as I felt Cristiano-guy lying on top of me, laughing and trying to catch his breath. His face was buried in my neck, causing shivers on my skin, he was bouncing himself on his arms, positioned on both sides of my body. I laughed even louder and for the first time I was laughing genuine and real.

"Hey, lovebirds. Get up and play along, it's a pitch not a king sized bed. Get up, _NOW!_" Someone screamed at the back of the pitch, several people burst out laughing. Cristiano looked up, smiling widely while glancing down at my shaking figure. I couldn't help myself but still laugh at this awkward situation. He reached out his hand, brushing some strands of hair out of my face. Looks like my perfectly perfect ponytail was all messed up. My smile vanished and my eyes widened at his sudden caress. He beamed down at me, his thumb stroking my earlobe. Looking softly into the depths of my orbs. The world stood still. Nothing was significant at this very moment. I couldn't help but stare in trance at him. Out of irritation, surprise and fear. It was a while since a guy came this near. Or even touched me this way.

"_YO!_" Cristiano was pushed away from me, landing to my right. He started laughing again. Just then I awoke out of my trance, and looked for the cause of the sudden interruption. It was Nani, who was grinning sheepishly at me, winking knowingly. I blushed deeply, reaching out my hand and begging for help. He helped me to get up.

Clara approached me, beaming excitedly. I only shook my head, signalizing her to keep her mouth shut. My head ached. I left the group of laughing figures behind me, making my way to the side of the pitch, where our bags were located. Bending down on my knees and reaching forward to my beige purse, I grabbed out a water bottle and took a huge gulp. Clara squatted next to me, eyeing me smugly.

"Am, what the hell was that?!" She asked, her tone turned out surprised.

I shrugged firmly, daring a glance towards the group of guys, joking around. Cristiano acted as if nothing happened. I mean, of course it was nothing to him. He was a famous heart-breaker. Not that I paid any attention to his unsuccessful flirts. Just why me? Just then, he caught my glaring, winking once. Merely rolling my eyes irritated, I turned around to face Clara, who was watching me suspiciously.

"He's mental sick. I tell ya." I barked, clearing my throat awkwardly. My skin was tingling at the shadow of his previous touch, trying to get off that weird tingling, I shook out the content of my bottle all over me. Clara gasped in surprise and chuckled low.

"That was necessary." I commented, standing up and making my way back to the group.

* * *

**a shorty short chappy this time. But a kinda cheesy and lovely one, I guess. seems like Cristiano has got a thing for Amanda, but does she still despise him? you choose. look forward to another chapter on Sunday. xo**


	7. Chapter 7

The day went by and I didn't even realize.

"What time is it, Clara?" I raised my voice, trying to catch Clara's attention who was midst a conversation with Pepe. She kept on giggling childishly. We sat in the middle of the pitch and the floodlights cast shadows around us. My bare feet were freezing and the slight wind caused shivers on my shoulders. I observed the situation, eyeing every one talking and laughing, making comments, just lying there. Cristiano and Miguel were discussing their last game against Greece and I noticed Cristiano throwing unreadable glances my eyes as he sat some feet away from me, so practically I sat there all my by myself, having my tiny arms wrapped around my knees. After freshen myself up a bit, we played some little games, including American football. I never played this one in my life and it was hardly difficult to focus on the ball as everyone was screaming and shouting midst. The second the sun set, everyone gathered together and small talked until now. Since the little 'cuddling' incident with Cristiano, I haven't had looked at him nor touched him in any way. Well, I tried. Though, this weird human being kept on searching some contact. Ridiculous. I buried my head in my arms, complaining how Clara dared to ignore me like that. Stupid flirts of her. Oh Lord.

"They both should get a room before I vomit, seriously." I mumbled to myself.

"Sorry?" A rather familiar voice uttered down. Please, let it be someone else, please-

I looked up and felt even more irritated than before. There he was sitting right next to me, raising his eyebrows questioningly. His hair wasn't styled anymore, instead all ruffled up and his shirt was knitted too.

"I was talking to myself." I murmured annoyed. The corners of his lips were drawn into an amused grin, immediately.

"I see. You do this often?" He asked, taking the same sitting position as me. The muscles on his arms tensed up, the second he wrapped his arms around his knees too. He then looked at me, catching my glance on his biceps. His smile grew even wider. Idiot. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Seriously, this guy was going on me nerves.

"No." I replied even more annoyed. Seemed like he noticed, because he drew out a drawled sigh. Oh, shut up. Suddenly, his hand snatched a strand of my hair, tugging on it slightly. I backed away a little, throwing irritated looks his way.

"What are you doing?"

Cristiano pulled his hand back, revealing a mosquito caught in the palm of his hand. The second he opened it, it flew away immediately.

"Oh." Was the only thing, I managed to bring out.

"No problem." He said calmly, before glancing over at me. My eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"I didn't thank you, to be honest." I spat.

"I know. But I'm sure you thought of it." He shrugged casually, watching Clara and Pepe laughing.

I gulped loudly. To be quite honest, I really did think of a simple thanks, but didn't speak it out. 1:0 for you, Ferrari. Watching him out of the corner of my eyes, he seemed to think of something funny, the way a grin appeared on his face out of nowhere. Suddenly, he yelled out a question, I happened to not understand.

"Oi, Miguel, how to say mal-humorado in English?"

I raised both of my brows curiously. Miguel turned to face him, some feet away. He closed his eyes for a second, thinking about the question that Cristiano just asked.

"Isn't it moody?" Miguel finally yelled back, his shoulders raised in question. Cristiano nodded a simple thank you, before turning around to face me again.

"You're moody." He uttered down, flashing a casual smile. Wait, what? I pointed at myself, annoyed?

"Me?! Moody? Do you even know, what this word means?" I spat bitterly.

He nodded once, before explaining. "One second you're happy and the next you're mad, right?"

I couldn't help myself but laugh at his expression. The way he raised his left brow while talking, without even knowing it. Probably.

"See? You're laughing now." He stated knowingly, grinning. There, his left eyebrow was slowly raising again. I held my tummy, giggling.

"Have-you-seen-yourself-while-talking?" I managed to breath out between the giggles. His smile suddenly vanished.

"What do you mean?" He rubbed his face, afraid of having something disgustingly ridiculous there.

"You're raising your left eyebrow, every time you try to prove someone wrong. It's kind of funny." I said, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

"Aaaah, sim, I know what you mean." His fingertips softly touched his left eyebrow, a smile appearing on his face. My smile slowly vanished and my glance wandered around the group of talks. Don't ask me, why I suddenly changed the topic about being moody. Maybe, because he was right? Although, I only behaved myself moody around him, not anyone else. He was the reason I did so. No idea why, to be exact.

"By the way, forgot to tell you, you're pretty good for a girl to play some football." He stated, after several minutes of silence. My head snapped over to him. His eyes were glistening with impression and wonder. His full lips curled into an approving smile.

"Well, I tried my best but it's always fun to play against such a loser like you." I spat playfully, nudging him slightly with my bare shoulder. His skin was heated and the second I touched it, it set tiny sparks between us, causing me to shiver. Guess, I wasn't the only one who noticed it. Cristiano was staring at the gap between us, his lips firmly pressed together. After some endless seconds of both of us, gazing at the sparkling gape between us, he looked up and I did the same.

"Did you just call me a loser?" He asked bitterly. Uh oh. I bit my lower lip, trying to find a great excuse and laugh it off.

"Well, yes…but no…and-"

He reached out and grasped my arms as hard as possible, probably leaving marks on them, before getting on top of me, strangling me and jamming both of my hands above my head, he pinned them with his left hand, while tickling the hell outta me with his right.

"Did you just really call me a loser?" He pressed out, stifling a laugh. I was screaming in playful fear, trying to get him rid of me. It was impossible, as he weight the double of me. My one-shouldered shirt was dragged up, revealing my bell and ribs but still managing to cover my bra. Thank God. I heard people laughing at us, cheering my name. Cristiano's soft and warm fingertips groped my bare hips, pinching them playfully. His face was beaming above me, chuckling lightly. My face was reddened with embarrassment, because he once again, touched me and not only my hands or arms but my freaking stomach and ribs, but also cause of me laughing way too loud and way too hard. His left hand, which pinned down both of mine, hung right next to me. Not thinking about my next move, I turned my head and bit as hard as I could into his wrist. Suddenly, he let go off my hands, laughing out loud and observing his wrist. Cristiano was still sitting on top of me, though my arms were set free now. I rapidly combed my hair with my fingers, before throwing my attention back to Cristiano, who was still looking at the red mark I left behind on his wrist. I snipped my fingers, and pointing to the side, signalizing him to get off me. A smile appeared on his face again, revealing his perfect whites, he slowly shook his head.

"You know, I actually was about to let you go but then you bit me, so you lost your chance. I won't pin you down again, as I'm afraid you'll use your little teeth to bit half of my wrist off again. So, now, I'll just sit on here for the rest of our loser-lives. Unless you've got a deal we both could live along with." He uttered down, acting careless. I widened my eyes in disbelief. Seriously? A lightweight laugh escaped my lips, as I reached out my hands and grasped both of his muscled arms, which were crossed.

"You get off of me, right now." I spat, stopping laughing. My face turned serious. Just then I expected him to give up, but he stood his ground. Well, he sat my pelvis. Sounds wrong, I know. But instead he shook his head, uncrossing his arms and taking mine in his, caressing them softly. My body tensed up at his sudden reaction and my heart raced up. His whole attention was set on my tiny hands. I watched him in silence, asking myself what he was thinking. His expression was unreadable, although his eyes glistened with desire, I couldn't comprehend. Just then I noticed how quiet it got around us and I suddenly pulled my now warmed up hands out of his grip, crossing them and daring a look around. Everyone was perked and tensed up in expectation. The sound of crickets was the only noise to hear. Clara beamed at both of us, grinning widely, the other guys did the same. Oh my God. I blushed like never before, while covering my face with both of my hands. Oh my Korean God, no way. I felt Cristiano shaking a bit, daring to gaze through the gap of my hands at him, I noticed him laughing quietly, looking around with crossed arms. He still was indeed sitting on top of me with an amused look. Awkward. Oh my God.

"Can you..um..please, please, please…get off me? This is getting very awkward and embarrassing at once. Just…please." I begged through my hands. Not risking to look at him. I felt him getting off, not before taking my hands off my face and tugging me up. He sat next to me again, but now he was the one who lied down, crossing his arms behind his head. From now on, everyone starting blabbing again, laughing and arguing altogether. I stood up, smoothing my shirt and the shorts, which still belonged to Pepe. Without looking down at Cristiano, whom I felt watching me, I head off to Clara.

She looked up as soon as I approached her, smiling knowingly. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. Pepe eyed me amusingly, up and down, then his glance wandered behind me and he nodded approvingly. Wait, what? No. No. No. Did he just really checked me out and 'approved' my being to Cristiano. I scoffed loudly, nudging Clara who was still beaming at me knowingly. Oh, please.

"It's getting way too late already. And I have to wake up early for work. Plus, you better accompany be while I need to get dressed." I uttered down, pointing at Pepe's short.

"By the way, you can keep 'em." Pepe interrupted me, nodding at his – my- shorts. I forced myself to smile.

"Um…thank you. Well then, Clara. Let's go?" She shifted uncomfortably, clearly wanting to stay a bit and flirt with Pepe. Not even going there. "Come one, seriously." I begged.

"We're about to leave too. Pepe told me, you came here, so what about we drive you both home? Our little van has some space available, eh?" Meireles appeared right next to me, nudging me slightly. Clara beamed at me mendicant. I just shrugged approvingly.

"Well, why not? That'd be very nice of you." Flashing a thankful smile at Meireles. Guess he was the only mature and genuine one. Everyone gathered their things together and we all made our way out of the stadium to the parking lot, were the white van was located. Well, to be exact two of them. Clara tried to small talk with me midst the walk to the parking lot, but I just ignored her. She kept asking me about Cristiano's and mine 'another incident'. Like how many 'incidents' are there to talk about? Dork. Clara hopped into the first van, me following her. Pepe, Meireles, Miguel, Hugo, Nani and of course Cristiano – God hates me – hopped in too. Every one strapped on and Hugo started the engine. Pepe sat in the passenger seat, Clara and me right behind them. Cristiano and Nani right behind us, while Meireles and Miguel had the fun to sit at the back of the van, squeezed together. Poor them.

I leaned back in my soft seat, cuddling myself in. My neck was burning from Cristiano's looks, I swear. Clara lived 5 blocks away from me, so the way to our home took 45 minutes. Midst the half of the way, I fell asleep. Completely exhausted from this eventful day. Bet, tomorrow I won't be able to stand right, because of the huge muscle ache, that was about to come.

"Am, wake up – you're home. Hey, babe. Come on." Some rather familiar female voice whispered into my ear, tickling my earlobe with her hot breath. I shut my eyes tight, not wanting to get up, wherever we were at that moment.

"Maybe I should carry her home." Another familiar – now male – voice whispered. Carry me? No, I'd rather crawl than being carried.

"Well, you can try. But I doubt she will let you. She's got a way too light sleep."

Yes, I do. See, I'm able to sleep and eavesdrop their conversation. Someone nudged me slightly. I shifted, stifling a yawn. I guess it was about midnight, or past. Someone nudged me again. Suddenly, I was lifted up and my eyes shut open only to receive a concern glance from Cristiano, who was the only holding me. Wow, not much of a surprise to be honest. My arms hung loosely beside me. He held my figure as close as possible, as if we were about to drown or something. My head leant against his massive shoulder, and I felt a bit dizzy. We stood – well he did – outside the van. And the surround seemed very familiar to me. Just then, I realized we stood on the sidewalk in front of my house, which was gleaming because of the huge, white circle hanging upon us all. Past midnight, yes. I shifted uncomfortably, as Cristiano began to walk. My hand grasped the material of his shirt, clinging onto it as if my life depended on it. Maybe it was. I felt his heart beating underneath it and it calmed me down for a bit. Just then I fully realized, that he carried me across the sidewalk, approaching my front door. The lights in the house were off, guess my parents and brother were already sleeping. Thank God. I cleared my throat quietly. Cristiano stopped and looked down at me, his grip around my tightening.

"Can you…um…put me down, please?" I murmured huskily, looking into his beautiful-brown eyes. Oh God, what the hell was I thinking at this. Guess, the 45-minutes ride bewildered my mind, kind of. He tightened his grip around me one more time, as if signalizing me, he didn't want to. Before putting me back onto my feet carefully. I let go off his shirt, smoothing it.

Oh dear, stop it. I shook my head in confusion. Smiling up at him lightheaded.

"Are you okay?" His voice sounded concerned.

I nodded, smiling, still lightheaded. Okay, I am an complete idiot, making a fool of myself right now. Dear Earth, I beg you to swallow me and never spit back out.

"Well, I have to go now. Thank you for driving me home, and tell the others good night too." I mumbled, extending my arms out to him. What the fuck is wrong with me? Glancing at him expectantly, I shook my head slightly, about to pull my arms back, as he embraced me into a tight, warm, soft hug. My face was buried in his chest and his hands were stroking my hair. I was 100% dreaming and I'm sure of it. Never in my entire life, would I have asked a boy, man, football player for a hug. Never ever. That wasn't even in my nature. My mind drifted around, making me dizzy. I pulled away and my arms dropped beside me, like those of a doll. We were staring at each other. His orbs revealed impatience, desire and self-confidence. Mine only the desire to go back to bed. I swear, sleep deprivation made me do some weird things. That's why I always went to bed at 9pm. Yes, like a little child. My eyelids were falling shut, slowly, as we were standing on my porch. Before they closed themselves completely, I saw his head snapping forward, not too fast not to slow. His soft lips brushed tenderly over mine, causing my eyes to tear themselves open. He cupped my face into his hands, gleaming into my orbs, almost as if asking for permission. I blinked once. He took it as a yes, before leaning in and-

**BEEP BEEP!**

I jerked away. Out of his tender grip, backing up to our front door. We both turned around, to see two of the vans. Clara and the others sat in there, their faces were almost glued to the side windows. I snapped my head back to glance at Cristiano in confusion. His expression revealed irritation, bet he was annoyed at the sudden interruption. I gulped slowly.

"I…I…have to go now." With these last words, I turned around, facing the door, fishing the keys out of my purse, entering the house and softly shutting the door behind me. Standing as quiet as possible in the tense darkness, perking on the sounds outside. Heavy steps made their way down the driveway, opening a car door. Loud laughter were heard, not even thinking of silencing themselves a bit. I tiptoed my way up the stairs, trying not to think about anything. As soon as I entered my room, I collapsed on my heavenly bed. Falling back asleep immediately.

* * *

**can't post this capter tomorrow, cause I'm not home, so I did it today instead. hope you enjoy reading. What do you think about Amanda getting all soft and tender in the end? was it because she was sleepy, or cause she starts to like Cristiano? not to mention, the brush-kiss he plastered onto her lips. he seriously got a thing for her, eh? xoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

„Mario, yo, will you please open up the door? I'm showering!" I screamed through the door of my bathroom, hoping my brother would be able to actually listen to my words. The doorbell rang several times and nobody intended to go and open it. Damn, like what time was it? About 7:30am. Meaning, I've got half an hour to get to work without being late. Also, meaning, who the hell wanted to see anyone out of my family at this early hour? I heart heavy footsteps strutting past, down the tiny hall. Hoping it'd be Mario to pick off his ass and just do something relevant once on his life. The ringing stopped, announcing the door has been shut open, finally. I merely rolled my eyes, foaming my head with cocoa-smelling shampoo. Oh, how I loved this.

I've woken up today, feeling like having a hangover. My whole body ached and my head pounded, about to explode. The funny thing is, I don't really remember how I even got into the house, nor how I ended up falling asleep without dressing off. See, once I fall asleep and someone dares to wake me up, I become paranoid and kind of weird. Not wanting to defend myself, but the things I do while still being half asleep are out of my control. No judging, okay? That's why I go to bed much earlier, than I did yesterday and people actually think twice before waking me up. A sudden couple of knocks interrupted my thoughts.

"Hold on!" I yelled. There was no answer, but the knocking stopped.

Fortunately, the door to the bathroom was locked. I knew Mario wouldn't even touch the doorknob as fearing to see me naked. Turning the hot water off and perking up, I stepped out of the shower, drying off my hair as fast as possible and wrapping the large towel around my tiny figure. Twisting the know and slowly opening the door, I discovered Clara eagerly sitting on the edge of my un-made bed. She was grinning, showing of her 32 teeth. I stifled a laugh, covering my mouth with my free hand, while holding the towel around my body with the other.

"What the hell are you doing here?" An amused look crept onto my face, observing the tired-looking Clara. Seemed like she dressed up in the dark, because none of her garment actually fit the other. Her hair was pinned up into a messy bun and she had some tiny circles right under her dark brown eyes, which were beaming at me right now.

"A good morning to you too, love." She stood up, walking up and wrapping her arms around me. I laughed out, closing her in my embrace. We pulled away afterwards, smiling at each other, before I want straight to my closet, searching for something nice to wear while grabbing my work-uniform.

"So, how did you sleep?" Clara asked, smoothing the blankets on my bed. I smiled as a thank you for making it.

I shrugged slightly. "Good, I guess. Just still hella tired and my feet ache, nothing else. Why?"

She flashed a sheepish smile, wiggling her eyebrows. "I knew, you wouldn't quite remember what happened yesterday, after we brought you home."

My heart sunk into my pants, which I managed to pull up, staring at her fearfully.

"Don't tell me, I farted or burped while snoozing on our way back." I whispered in anxiety.

Clara burst out laughing, pointing at me and shaking her head.

"Noooooo way. Much worse." She announced, winking and pursing her lips at me. "Hint hint."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, thinking back. Well, as Clara said, I wasn't farting nor burping. And I definitely do not talk in sleep, also.

"Um…I don't know what you're talking about." I murmured.

She tapped her chin, playfully thinking. My impatience was about to be tested. Oh Lord.

"Hm…Cristiano carried you home…and…well…" She tapped her chin again, smiling smugly. My heart sunk even lower. She was just kidding, I'm 100% sure. But somehow, a clear memory suddenly flashed through my mind, reminding me of how strong Cristiano's arms were around me. My head spun around and dizziness overcame me. No way, no way. No way.

"You're kidding right? Stop lying to me, it's not even funny." I spat irritated.

Clara laughed out loud, shrugging once. "You know, I'm not lying. There are plenty of witnesses. Go and ask around, I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you the whole story." She outlined 'whole' while her smile got bigger and bigger.

"What whole story?" I cleared my throat and licked my dry lips. Still standing in some holey jeans and only a bra.

Clara approached my slowly, using her acting skills. Oh, please. "I don't know. Go and ask Cristiano." She grinned sheepishly. My stomach was grumbled with anger and starvation. I actually haven't ate since last morning.

"Clara, stop bullshitting me and tell me the 'whole story'. Unless, you're just trying to get on my bad side." I warned, pointing at her.

She sighed dramatically, pausing for some endless seconds. I glared at her irritated.

"Spit out."

"Wow, relax. Okay? Well, I don't know whether you remember or not…Wait, if you did you would have already killed yourself or anything extraordinaire. Anyways, so as you know the team suggested to drive us home and they did, but you dumbass fell asleep immediately. And no, you did not fart nor burp." She quickly added at my grimace. "Well, we got there but you didn't want to wake up so Cristiano stood his ground and insisted to carry you. Though, your sleep isn't that solid. I'm not sure, but I guess he only carried you half the way, as you realized he did. The only thing we were able to see though the windows, were you both standing on your porch and doing something. I guess talking, first." She shrugged, grinning.

I cleared my throat loudly, looking at anything but her. Well, that was awkward. Turning back around to my closet, I picked a bright yellow tank top and slipped it on. Without turning back around, I shifted my weight onto my left foot, pretending to search for something else to wear. To be honest, I was not only ashamed of myself for letting Cristiano get all cozy with me, but with Clara also. She knew exactly how I loathe body contact with men and didn't even attempt anything. Like, seriously?

"What do you mean with 'talking first'?" I mumbled, getting more nervous each second.

"Well, I do not know exactly how it happened." She sighed dramatically. "He leant in and…we…kissed you." She murmured as if it was the most simplest thing in the world. I froze, slowly turning around and facing here. My eyes widened and I gasped for air like a desperate little fish.

"You're bullshitting." I whispered, doubting Clara would even understand a word. She did, either way.

Shaking her head energetically, her smile vanished. A questioning look appeared on her face instead. "Am, I'm not. I swear, I'm not. Just ask anyone, we all saw." She announced.

"I WON'T ASK ANYONE, OKAY?! I AM ASKING YOU!" I shrieked in panic. My sped through my veins and I began to sweat. Leaning against the front of my closet, I rubbed my eyes. "What the…how the…why didn't you…how could I…no way…what the hell…"

"Yo, Am, calm down." She shushed me, looking concerned. "He said, it was nothing big. Just like a real quick peck. Don't you remember? Not even in the slightest?"

I shook my head, glancing at her. Last time I've been kissed was a year ago. And I didn't intend on repeat anytime soon again. But, failed. Because if you've been kissed, there is more to come, but I'm not up for more. I guess, I'll never be. All thanks to Drew, burn in hell bastard. Just then short flashbacks rushed through my mind. The night before seemed to replay itself in front of my eyes. His face was closer than ever. His hot breath was tickling my cheeks while his hands were cupping my face. And I did nothing but stare at him. What the hell was wrong with me? I could have pushed him away, telling him not to touch me. But I just stood there, completely off-guard. And how did he dare to just kiss me without permission? Yeah, okay, you don't ask for any permission, that's bullshit. But just because we spent some time together – together actually means his whole team, Clara and me and not just like we were the only ones on this entire damn planet – doesn't mean he's allowed to kiss me. I do not care in the slightest what kind of a kiss it was. A good night kiss, a good bye kiss, a freaking kiss full of hate. You don't do something like that, when the person you're about to kiss hates you, right? Right? And I'm 100% sure, it didn't mean anything. Like Clara said, it was just a peck, right? Right? Nothing serious. Who out of all people would even have a thing for me? Like the mentally sick, moody mess I am. I tend to push people away, even if it has to be my own mother. The second you come all cozy and emotional on me, my behavior backs you off immediately. Everyone I know is already aware of that. And they try to just leave me alone. I don't need any sympathy. But I still catch my mom's glance on me, thoughtful and concerned. I'm okay now. The mental and physical scars Drew has written on me were healed, I guess. No guy will ever tear them open again. Hopefully not. Because I won't survive this pain once again.

When I was younger, boys indeed chased me. And they also kissed me. Saying it was no big deal, just a 'peck'. Yeah, sure. Falling hard afterwards, isn't a big deal at all. Not at all. Sure, sure.

Once in a while, I read some teen-magazines, like People and OK! and I happened to see some articles about how much of a player Cristiano really was. How he changed his girlfriend every once a week, flirting along with Paris Hilton and Bipasha Basu. So why in hell, did he try to hit on me last night? And the last few days? I'm not any kind of interesting nor special nor even that hot and beautiful as his previous flirts. Plus-

A hand patted my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts sharply. My eyes zoomed around the room, landing on Clara who was staring at me amused.

"You okay?"

I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, of course. I mean, why shouldn't I be?" Making my way to the shelf, grabbing the bright green hair brush and combing my still wet hair. Focusing on every move, not even trying to think any further about anything Cristiano-related.

"Well, you didn't answer my question." Clara suddenly announced, crossing her arms across her fully chest.

"What question?" I pretended to not remember, as in fact she asked me this question some minutes ago.

Clara rolled her eyes, scoffing. "You can't bullshit me. I was asking you, whether or not you remember the moment Cristiano kissed you."

I exhaled loudly, signalizing how loathed the topic. "Well, y'know…I do remember some tiny things, like the time he carried me and well…yeah…" I bit my bottom lip, searching through my mind for any information, I haven't certainly noticed. There – in the back of my mind, rolling around in the corner, literally, was a single flashback. Cristiano cupped my face into his hands, his hazel-brown eyes beaming at me questioningly. I blinked once before he leant in and a sudden beeping sound interrupted us both.

"What?" Clara pressed out, watching my facial expression first go thoughtful then confused then ashamed and finally angry. "Am, what?" She shrieked, while almost jumping up and down on my bed, she sat down again.

"This freaking bastard! Oh my God, no way!" I tugged at the ends of my strands, twirling them between my fingers, staring at the floor, devastated.

"WHAT?! Tell me!" Clara shrieked again, approaching me and snipping in front of my eyes. I awoke out of my trance, glaring at her.

"Oh, just you know, this bastard indeed intended to kiss me, but you guys interrupted at the right moment. No way, like how freaking pushy is he?"

Clara's impatient look vanished and a sheepish smile appeared on her gorgeous face instead. "Ah, that's what you're talking about." She giggled childishly, covering her rosy lips with her fingertips. "You're not fully aware of the actual happening, are you?"

I furrowed my eyebrows confused, tucking a now curly strand of hair behind my ear. Twisting the of my shirt uncomfortably. Didn't even realize that I somehow managed to put on a shirt.

"What actual happening?"

Clara bit her bottom lip, definitely stifling a laugh. This was not funny, not in the slightest.

"On our way back to my house, we were joking around and laughing – you missed it – and Cristiano somehow blabbed out about you giving him permission for the following kiss. Though, he was kind of irritated how we interrupted you both and-"

"Wait what?!"

Clara shut her mouth all of a sudden. Her lips curving into a smugly smile. "You have him the permission, Amanda. That's what he said." She murmured, grinning in entertainment.

I blushed like never before in my entire life, I guess. Clara's orbs were observing every inch of my expression, searching for the truth. "He's lying." I lied myself, looking at anything but her. She noticed anyways.

"Tell me a good reason why he should be lying? He said you blinked. And as far as I know, that's the exact permission people give before letting themselves get kissed."

My face reddened even more now, impossible to imagine though.

"So…well…I didn't…it wasn't…it's not like…you know…and-"

"Just admit the fact you did give him permission and you actually do like him. That's all I am asking for." Clara merely rolled her eyes, wagging her hand.

I cleared my throat, ready for a little rant. Again. "Listen to me you dumbass. I hate repeating myself, but I'll do just for you. I didn't give him any permission. At least I do not remember, even if I did. This means, I just admitted of being unconscious last night. You know exactly how I am with a tiny sleep deprivation. Secondly, nothing is ever going to change between me and him. We both hate each other, at least I do. And just because he went all cozy with me on the pitch, doesn't mean I enjoyed it in any possible way. Clara, seriously, just leave me alone with that. The only reason I am actually accompanying you in the stadium and the pitch is because you're my best friend and I hate disappointing you." Giving her a last glance, making sure she got me, I made my way back to the bathroom to blow dry my hair. It was 10 past 8am, which meant I was already late for work. But since my boss is a woman, she surely will believe me if I dish her up about something completely irrelevant.

Clara peeked out of the corner of my room, looking satisfied.

"Just so you know, the team's out of town, but they will be back on Thursday for the match between Brazil. And we're going." She had to yell through the loud noise of my blow dryer. Awaiting my reaction.

I nodded my head quickly, hoping she would drop the topic.

God, how much I still hated all those games and matches and the European Cup and the World Cup and all this shit. I curse whoever invented it. Seriously.

* * *

It was Wednesday evening and I was relaxing on our huge, leather couch in our living room, watching Breakfast at Tiffany's while drinking some cappuccino. Mom sat next to me, snoozing. Dad was mowing the lawn in our garden and Mario was upstairs, resting. A quite calm evening, have to say.

_Holly Golightly: "It's better to look at the sky than live there. Such an empty place; so vague. Just a country where the thunder goes and things disappear."_

Oh, what a true quote. I absolutely love Audrey Hepburn, the most real actress that has ever walked this planet. I shifted slightly, glancing at mom, trying not to wake her up. Her bangs hung loosely and her hair was ruffled up, though she still managed to look beautiful. She pressed her lips firmly together. Looks like she dreamt about something not that nice. I sighed, taking a rather large gulp off my cappuccino and almost choking on it. A loud cough escaped my lips and I rose up, rushing to the kitchen as not to wake mom up. The coughs wouldn't stop and hot tears ran down my cheeks.

"Damn-it." I gasped through the coughs. Leaning in while holding onto the edge of the counter, I tried to pat myself on the back.

"Honey, are you okay?" Mom peeked around the corner. Damnit, guess my way too loud coughs woke her up. I wagged in front of my face, trying to stop the tears streaming down my face.

"I'm alright, mom. Just choked on my cappuccino. Nothing to worry about." Sniffing silently.

Mom chuckled lightly, approaching me and wiping away my tears with her soft finger tips. "My poor baby." She whispered, smiling.

"Mooommm." I protested, sniffing again. Her smile grew even more.

She backed off and leant against the counter, observing my features.

"You know, I've got a day off tomorrow. I thought we could go shopping together. Last time we did something together, was like months ago. I could talk to your boss about it, if you want. So what are you saying?"

Oh shit.

I blinked twice, searching my mind off for the right words.

"Um…well…to be honest, I already promised Clara to go with her to this football match." I mumbled. Her face sunk and she forced a light smile. Great. Really. Blame it on stupid Clara for taking me there. I love my mom so much and we indeed didn't do anything together since years. Exaggerating there. But still, neither could I break my promise to Clara and I bet mom will understand anyways.

"It's okay, honey. Maybe next time." Her once so high held shoulders dropped. An idea immediately lighted itself up in my mind. Mom turned away, already heading out of the kitchen.

"Mom, would you mind accompanying us to the match?" I cleared my throat, tugging on the edge of my shirt. She glanced at me over her shoulder, smiling again. Phew.

"That's a great idea, sweetheart. I would love to go, haven't been there since Drew played…" She trailed off at my reaction, pressing her lips together. "I'd love to go, yes, yes. Um…who's playing by the way?"

I acted like nothing happened. "Portugal against Brazil."

She nodded overpraised, before heading out.

I still love you, mom.

* * *

"I'm so excited." Mom squealed into my ear as we were sitting in the cab, driving down to the stadium. Her and Clara have been chatting about every so little detail of what could happen today. Not that Portugal and Brazil were never ending rivals but they pretty much loathed each other while playing.

"Mom, you're not even supporting any of them." I uttered down, looking out of the side window, twirling my phone in my lap.

"Well, are you? I guess not, so why are you even going?" She chuckled, nudging me playfully.

We were sitting in the back, mom was squeezed in the middle and me and Clara were placed at both sides of her. It was 9 in the morning and the match was about to start in half an hour. As always, Clara was all dressed up into a professional groupie. She even borrowed mom a Portuguese shirt. No idea where she got that from. Though, I stayed the same boring-looking myself. Not wearing any supportive stuff anyways. Clara insisted and offered me a scarf or a flag, to swing around. But I resisted.

"Because Clara made me go. I couldn't even protest, okay?" I snapped slightly.

Clara peeked around mom, an rather amused look on her face.

"You're lying, we both know you want to catch a glimpse on your lover-boy." She announced. My eyes widened and I glared at her, both eyebrows raised. Her lips curved into a sheepish smile.

"What lover-boy? What are you both talking about?" Mom's orbs darted between me and Clara.

Clara shifted in her seat, smiling smugly, before glancing at Mom, exhaling and starting to babble down.

"Well, Elena, see your daughter has a rather attractive admirer. And he happens to play in this Portuguese team, plus he's the captain. How lovely is that? Hence she's going to every game they have this season. Look how's she gleaming with love." She covered her mouth with some of her fingers, giggling goofily. Indeed, I was gleaming. But with pure hate and disgust.

Mom laughed out loud, making me jump. She poked me in my upper arm, catching my attention. "That's why you've been so absent then and now. What a pity you didn't tell me from the start. Is he tall? I hope he speaks English very well. I won't stand the fact my future son-in-law isn't even able to thank me for my super delicious dinner." Her and Clara bursted out laughing, holding their belly and shaking uncontrollably.

I watched them with a full hand of hatred and disgust. "I hate you. Just shut up, both of you. You don't know shit." I snapped at them, unstrapping myself and storming out of the car offensively. Not before, spitting out. "We're there."

Our seats, well our stands, as there weren't any seats located down there, were right next to train's banks. Clara, mom and I all leant onto the fence, which separated us from the pitch. Even though, the match didn't even start nor both of the teams entered the pitch, the fans sung some songs on Portuguese I didn't understand. That's real love, coming all the way up from Brazil and Portugal to support and watch their teams playing. I sighed, burying my face in my hands.

_"PORTUGAL PORTUGAL PORTUGAL!"_

_"BRAZIL BRAZIL BRAZIL!"_

Everyone started screaming and cheering, Clara's and Mom's voices amongst them. Oh my God, please not. I peeked through the gap of my fingers, observing the current situation.

Guys dressed in red and guys dressed in yellow, entered the pitching, followed by the referee's. The all lined up, warming themselves up a bit. My eyes wandered along their tall figures, where they suddenly stopped at the left end of the Portuguese team. There he stood all in his annoying glory. Confident and arrogant. A scoff escaped my lips and I crossed my arms over my chest. Suddenly, as if knowing he has been watched, Cristiano's eyes met mine. His full, wet lips formed into a smile. He looked around, before rushing off the pitch into our direction. Though, the national-hymn-singing didn't start yet, people screamed and yelled in protest, as he made his way down the pitch casually. My heart dropped, as he came near.

_"CRISTIANO, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING?"_

_"OI, RONNIE GET BACK NOW!_"

He ignored them all, as his eyes were glued to mine. I gulped, backing off the fence a bit. The second he reached us, every pair of eyes, including those of Clara and my mother, were staring at us in complete surprise.

Cristiano's eyes were gleaming with expectation, his very dark hair were styled to the side. Too much hair-gel in my opinion. Though, his team players didn't mind.

My eyebrows furrowed themselves in confusion, as he leant in, reaching out his arms, grasping my upper ones and pulling me back to him. My whole body tensed up and my nerves were freaking out. His eyes searched those of mine, as his loosened his grip on my arms. People were still yelling and a referee was running into our direction, along with Portugal's head coach, Paulo Bento. His face was grimaced into a rather mad expression and he was raging.

"I'm glad you came, menina. Hope, you'll enjoy this game." He whispered, only for us both to hear. Now, both of our figures were viewing by thousands and thousands of people on the large screen hanging upon the pitch. They all were murmuring in surprise, some were cheering and others were yelling, complaining.

I tucked a strand of my now-wavy hair behind my ear, resisting the urge to look into his hypnotizing eyes. He leant in, and placed a very soft, somehow wet kiss on the corner of my lips. Just the corner, nothing else, promise. Everyone gasped around us, before cheering, laughing, clapping, yelling and complaining all at once. He backed off a little, pulling his hands back, with one last wink, he turned around, making his way down to the lineup, again. The referee followed him, completely off-guard by his weird and sudden behavior. The coach, Bento, walked past me, throwing an confusing and interested glance my way. Guess he was asking himself, who the hell I was, to interrupt such an important game like that.

I stood there like carved in stone, completely unable to move a tiny bit. My face was as red as a ripe tomato and my orbs were watching Cristiano's every move. My back was burning with heave pressure of people watching me, and my hands were curled into tiny fists. Clara and mom were chatting excitedly, throwing weird looks my way. I stood like that for about 10 minutes, not daring to move, as being scared to get shot or attacked or even murdered by any of the witnesses. The hot blood of mine, rushed through my tiny veins, looking for a place to escape. Finally, mom and Clara actually noticed me existence. They turned to face me and started to stare holes in my figure. They seriously acted so childish.

"Sweetheart, is that the guy Clara was talking about earlier?" Mom pressed out, definitely stifling a giggle. My head snapped back, to look at her. My eyes accustomed her precious face.

"That bastard over there?" I pointed at the playing guy, with a 7 on his back. "Yes, it is. And he's the most arrogant, self-loving person I have ever met." I snapped.

Clara gasped playfully, nudging mom in the ribs. "Told you, not to ask her about him. Look how cold she gets wherever you throw that topic at her. Typically in love." She sing-sang. I flipped her off, receiving a glare from mom.

"Amanda, stop acting like that." She turned serious for a moment, before flashing a sheepish smile once again. I merely rolled my eyes, dismissing both of them and paying attention the match. Brazil currently possessed the ball now, and everyone was cheering.

I craved for my comfortable bed right now. Being humiliated like that is not in my nature.

* * *

The score-schedule showed the current stand, 1:1.

Miguel opened the score at the 32' minute, following by a very young boy, called Neymar at the 38th minute.

I didn't really paid attention anymore, brooding in my head, leaning on the tiny fence. Wherever I looked, people kept eyeing me and whispering to their partners. Thank you very much. Now, about 45 thousand of people asked themselves who the fuck I was, to get so much attention from the one and only Cristiano Ronaldo. I shook my head, sighing silently. Mom and Clara were chatting animatedly, throwing now and then smug glances my way. Trying to ignore them, I buried my head into my crossed arms, which were placed on the little fence.

_"Oh my God, watch out!"_

_"You, down there, dive down!"_

_"Clara, watch-"_ Someone grabbed me by the back of my shirt and I was pulled back harshly. Shutting my eyes open, panic was written all over my face. Just then a ball with a hella lot of speed, landed in front of me. Realizing, he could of have hit me and cause another bump.

People behind me, who definitely were Portugal supporters, kept screaming and yelling, throwing their empty plastic cups at someone who approached us. I turned my head to look at whoever 'rescued' me. It was a rather chubby older man, smiling warmly at me. I mouthed a silent 'thank you', receiving a nod.

"Oh my God, Clara, honey are you okay?" Mom reached out to me, embracing me into a hug. Clara was staring at me with mixed feelings. Bet, she thought of laughing and throwing fake concerned glances my way.

"You're definitely a freaking ball-magnet, aren't you?" She pressed out, stifling a grin. She received a glare from me. Just then, her eyes wandered from me to the right, where the pitch was located. People's screams and yells behind me just doubled immediately. I ran a hand through my ruffled up hair, peeking over my shoulder. Some in red dressed people gathered around the fence, each and every of them, asking for my attention. Paramedics.

I looked at them confused.

"Young lady, are you okay?" Some man midst 50, asked me, his voice sounded concerned.

I nodded, shifting uncomfortably. The game went on, and people focused on it, leaving me alone.

"Seriously, we should build a rather large fence, nowadays. Such incidents are happening more and more often. And look at this, the guy didn't even come over to apologize." He remarked to a his female partner. She agreed, as they made their way back to their place.

I stood there, still shocked about the little incident, minutes ago. Indeed, as Clara said, I was a ball-magnet and to be honest, there was nothing about it, I could be proud of. Now, I kept a little distance from the fence, watching the ball. Well and the players. Now and then, my glance wandered around, remaining on Cristiano for a few seconds, we was all in his element. His facial expression must have been the best. The way he cheers and the way he goes ballistic on someone for pushing him and sending him to fall is kind of funny. Minutes passed and finally the referee, whistled, announcing the half time. 15 minutes to go for the next half.

"Am, your mom and I get us all something to drink and a little snack. Just stay here, okay?" Clara mumbled into my ear. I nodded without looking at her. The unnatural green grass was more interesting to me, than the leaving of the players to their locker rooms.

A shadow was casted on the point of grass I were currently looking at. I looked, only to recognize a young Brazil player, who scored the first goal for Brazil, approaching me. He had a natural tan, was rather skinny and had a somewhat mullet. Some strands of his hair were colored in a dark blonde. His eyes were glued to mine, and sweat streamed down his face. His taken-off jersey hung around his neck loosely, revealing his skinny yet trained body. My eyes observed every inch of his tanned figure, as he stopped in front of me, searching for my attention. I looked up. A cute smile appeared on his face.

"Hello. I'm sorry for shooting the ball into your direction. I hope it didn't hit you." He spoke up in broken English, which caused me to smile in amusement.

"Don't worry, everything's okay. Just watch out the next time, will you?" I replied harshly. Way too harsh. His smile vanished and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. I fake smile at him again, nodding.

"Oi, Neymar, cuidado, a próxima vez." A familiar voice shouted from the right side of the pitch. Both, Neymar and me turned around, searching for the source. Cristiano appeared in our view, heading into our direction. The way he walked and held his head high, signalized his anger. I glanced at Neymar out of the corner of my eyes. His expression was calm yet provocative. Uh oh.

Cristiano arrived, his eyes glued to Neymar's, they were staring at each other defiantly. Neymar was almost as tall as Cristiano, just almost. No one of them said a thing for some eternal seconds. People were gesticulating behind me, shouting offending words into Neymar's direction. I gulped loudly, clearing my throat. Just then, both of them noticed my existence. They faced me, a questing look on their faces. Cristiano's expression was cold and what? Jealous? Envying? Wow there. Neymar looked down at me, more calm and disciplined.

"Um…you have got…8 minutes left to fresh yourself up…before the second half starts, y'know?" I mouthed off silently, gesturing with my hands. It took them some seconds to realize what I have said. Neymar nodded at me once, turning around and making his way down the side walk, not before throwing me an unreadable glance. Me and Cristiano faced each other then. I opened my mouth to remind him of the time he had left, but he interrupted me.

"Will you drop by the our locker room, once the game is over?" He asked casually.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, biting my bottom lip. Wow. Wow. Wow. The cold side of me took hold of me.

"No." I remarked, fake smiling at him. His reaction appeared confused and a tiny bit annoyed. He nodded as if understanding. I almost thought he dropped the topic. Wrong.

"Why not?" He stood his ground, crossing his arms over his chest, showing off his sweaty biceps. He still wore his wet jersey and didn't mind it anyways. His hair was ruffled up a bit, making him look a bit sexy. Just a tiny tiny tiny bit. I sighed theatrically, rolling my eyes.

"Because I don't want to?!" It sounded more of a question than a response.

His full lips curved into a small smile, as he was chewing on his lips.

"You don't? I see. Moody again?" Cristiano uttered down casually, scratching the bridge of his nose. I watched him tiringly. God, why doesn't he give up? There's not a thing that would change my mind anyways. Stubborn kid.

"I'm not." I snapped at him irritated. He threw a cold glance my way, before softening. Though, his jawline was clenched.

_"Yes, you are."_

_"No, I'm not."_

_"You are."_

"No, definitely not. It's just you who drives me crazy." I snapped back, just then realizing the ambiguous point behind my words. Cristiano's lips curved into a smug grin.

"Oh, really? Do I? That's very interesting, nena. Does that mean, you will drop by?"

I scoffed, running a hand through my middle brown hair, in anger.

"No it doesn't. Just go…and get ready or something." I barked, looking straight at him. He looked back, untouched.

"I will as soon you I force you to drop by and-"

"She will drop by, I will make sure of that." I familiar female voice sounded off behind me. I turned around in surprise, only to glance at Clara standing there, two cups on both of her hands. Mom peeked around her, beaming. She had three pretzel clutched in her hand. My eyes widened at her response.

"Bom dia, minha senhora." Cristiano uttered down softly, looking at my mom. Guess he realized she was my mother, as he was warmly smiling at her. She nodded, flashing a warm smile back.

"Buenos dias." She remarked.

Oh my God. She didn't just answered in Spanish instead of Portuguese or English, did she? Cristiano chuckled lightly, his eyes darting between my reddened self and mom's satisfied expression. Clara was stifling a laugh, cause her lips to let escape some weird noises. I smacked my forehead, hiding my face from Cristiano's intensive glance.

"I have to go now, see you later." He murmured only for me to hear. I ignored him, as he made his way down the side walk. He still smiled, as he turned around the corner.

"Mom!" I snapped, blushing even more. "He spoke to you in Portuguese not in Spanish."

She giggled childishly, shrugging casually. "But darling, I bet he still understood what he said, right?"

Clara nodded, agreeing. I rolled my eyes in complete embarrassment. Clara handed me a cup of Coke and a pretzel, eyeing me suspiciously.

"You'll pay for that promise." I whispered into her ear, while biting off of my pretzel.

She just chuckled.

* * *

**here you go with the longest chapter since :) Hope you enjoy it. and tell me what you think. xo**


	9. Chapter 9

The game ended with 2:2, nothing surprising to be honest, because both of the teams played very well. Meireles scored for Portugal and Marcelo scored for Brazil. The crowd pretty much freaked out, but no one could do anything about it. The players strutted down the pitch slowly, some of them taking of their shirts. People behind Clara, Mom and me started to get out of the stadium themselves, chatting heatedly. I turned around and made my way up the seat aisle to the exit. Clara and Mom following me. The second we got to the main building, Clara grasped my wrist and tugged me into the opposite direction of the final exit.

"What are you doing?" I protested, trying to get her grip off me.

"I've got a promise to hold. That's what I'm doing." She simply replied, directly rushing to the area which was strictly closed to fans.

"Clara, we're not able to enter this area, you know?" I hissed, finally releasing myself. She suddenly stopped, tapping her chin thoughtfully and looking around. In fact, we stood in front of several closed doors and there were no nameplates on any of them. Just some stickers, pointing to the toilettes and the actual locker rooms.

"Okay, there is the left and the right one locker room. Your lover boy and Brazil." I scoffed at her last comment. 'Your lover boy'. No way.

She continued, ignoring me. "I mean, even if we end up in the Brazilian one, I wouldn't even mind." Clara finally turned to face me, wiggling her eyebrows. I merely rolled my eyes and shook my head at her.

"You pervert."

She grinned at me, smugly. Suddenly, shouts and laughter were heard, Clara and I peeked around the corner. The Portuguese players sprinted out of the right room, clapping, making some banter and chatting loudly. The second they noticed us, standing, they went quiet. I gulped loudly, just in time, as they broke into heavy and genuine greetings.

"Oh my God!" Clara shrieked lowly, as they approached us. I took some steps behind her, trying to hide myself.

"Hello, girls. Nice seeing you here. Did you both like the game? Though, we didn't completely win. Yet." Lopes uttered down, extending his arms out for a hug.

"I really did. You all played great, congratulations." Clara shrieked out, hugging Lopes and observing the others. They all looked freshly showered, dressed into their national training clothes. Just then, I noticed one person was missing. I rolled my eyes. Of course, who else? Hoping Clara would forget my locker room 'date', I carried away bit, discussing the game with the guys. They seemed pretty much satisfied with the outcome, and I still wondered how down to earth they really were. Sarcasm was their favorite thing to do, I see. As soon as I thought, Clara forgot to remind me of her promise, Fabio turned to face me, leaning in and whispering into my ear.

"He's waiting." He backed up a bit, smiling at me. My mouth dropped open. How did he know? What the-

"He knew, you wouldn't want to come, that's why." He responded to my thoughts, a bit louder now. I furrowed my brows in complete surprise. Guess, Cristiano told him to remind me. Bastard. I sighed loudly, receiving several questioning looks from the people around us. We still stood in the hall, where the door to the locker rooms were located. Not wanting to catch anyone's attention, I ducked myself a bit, creeping around to the right door. Daring a last glance to the group, making sure no one saw me in action, I pulled the door know and entered in.

To be honest, I have never been in a guy's locker room before. It smelt like deodorant, sweat and soap mixed together. Not that disgusting, really. I eyed the tiny room. A large bench was placed at both sides of it, and mini lockers hung on the walls. Right next to me, was the entrance to the showering area. The floor looked pretty wet and dangerous. Not that I would dare and step on it, just to slip down. My orbs wandered more further, and my feet dragged me along. At the very end of the bench, on my right hand side, sat Cristiano, currently tying his shoe laces. He was bending down, humming a song, I didn't seem to know. I guess, he didn't noticed my presence.

I cleared my throat loudly, signalizing him, someone entered the room. His head snapped up, his expression questioningly. As soon as his recognized me, his full lips curved into a smile. Wordless, he patted the seat next to him. I just stood there, watching him suspiciously. Clearly we were alone in this room. For the first time ever, and I didn't trust him that well. His raised his eyebrows, patting the seat next to him again. My feet dragged me forward and before I knew it, we sat shoulder to shoulder.

"Glad you came." He murmured flatly, staring at the opposite wall. I merely shrugged.

"You did a great job reminding me to come." I mumbled irritated. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see him grin. Which irritated me even more. How dare he?

"So, may I know the reason you insisted to see me so badly?" I snapped impatiently. Now, he fully turned to face me, leaning against the wall, next to us.

"Yes, you can."

"So?"

We both stared at each other, who would glance away first? Of course, I did.

"So?" I repeated myself, crossing my arms over my chest more impatiently. He remained silent for a few minutes and I already thought about vanishing, but-

"I just wanted to ask, what that kiss, several days ago, actually meant?" His voice was somehow husky, and the look on his face was unreadable. My gust froze at that question and my mouth went dry. Duh, you don't ask a girl something like that? As far as I know, guys know what kind of kiss they had, after having billion relationships, right? I reddened, thinking back.

"Um…I…I…um…I thought you would know? I mean, YOU kissed…me…you should know better." I stuttered. His face remained unreadable, thought a glimpse of desire lit up his orbs for some seconds, before they went unreadable again. He flashed a smug grin.

"You gave me the permission." Cristiano simply answered. Now, it was my turn to fully turn to him. My eyes widened in shock and my lips gaped for an answer.

"I didn't." I protested, still in shock. He smiled sheepishly.

"Yes, you did. You blinked as 'Yes'. Not my fault, you can't remember."

"Oh, it is." I snapped. "You manipulated me, like every guy does once in a while. So, I blame you for my unconsciousness."

He raised his eyebrows, clearly amused how mad I was. That guy was as cocky and arrogant as ever, my blood was racing through my veins heatedly. My anger was beyond my control.

"Come on, I know you enjoyed it." He pressed out, winking at me.

CLAP!

The next thing I see is a red imprint on Cristiano's right cheek. Clearly, the mark I left just seconds ago. I gasped in surprise, covering my opened mouth in shock. Wow, that was a real thing. He, himself sat there all in surprise over my action-packed reaction to his comment.

"I'm…I'm so-"

"No, no, it's okay. You just confirmed I was right and," He interrupted me casually, leaning in a tiny bit. "you did enjoyed it as much as I."

That was too much, for real. My hand, itching with desire, raised itself up, ready to go on him once again. Just then, he firmly grasped my outstretched wrist, clenching it tightly and leaning dangerously in. Both of our faces were just inches away from each other.

"Don't you even dare." He whispered. His hot breath was tickling my cheeks, sending a light shake over my spine. We glared at each other. The imprint on his cheek slowly faded.

"Or what?" I spat in pure loathe.

He didn't have to answer anymore, as his lips crushed onto mine. My world stopped still for a few seconds, before it went all backwards. I clenched my fist in his grip, trying to break free. My eyes were squinted, and my body tensed up. His other free hand, cupped my face, caressing my cheek gently, before it slid down my spine, pushing my body closer to his. I was pressed to his chest and felt helpless. His tongue brushed over my firmly pressed lips, asking for entrance. I opened my lips slightly, and the second I did, Cristiano slipped his tongue into my dry mouth. Bad move. As soon as his lips reunited with mine, I bit as hard as I could onto his bottom lip. His reaction was predictable. He backed up a bit, cursing aloud. Gathering all my strength, I abruptly released myself off his tight grip, sliding some feet away from him, still sitting on the bench. I was breathing heavily, riding myself in rage. My hand reached my mouth, wiping every single spit I happened to exchange with that bastard. My brown orbs, filled with pure hatred, darted over to Cristiano, who was sitting erectly, sucking on his bottom lip. His hands were placed on his jeans-clothed thighs. The look on his face was unreadable.

"Well…that was kind of…interesting, eh?" He suddenly uttered down, a slow smile spreading itself across his lips. From my distance, I still could see a tiny mark on the corner of his bottom lip, where a tiny drop of blood was seen. I deeply inhaled and exhaled, trying to control my inner loathing.

"Arrogant, self-loving bastard." I murmured to myself, but loud enough for him to hear. His smug expression changed into a hurt one. Just for some quick seconds, before his face hardened. The jaw line was firmly clenched, as he wiped away another tiny blood drops on his lips. Cristiano raised up, and I almost thought, he would approach me. But instead, he reached out for his bag and his jacket, putting his cap on backwards. I gulped, as he walked past me, not even looking my way. He stopped at the door, glancing back over his shoulder. Again, his expression was hard to read.

"I'll drive you home."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, standing up myself and making my way over to him, keeping some distance between us.

"I came here with Clara. She's the one driving." I snapped. Welcome back, moody self. He opened his mouth to remark, instead opening the door, not ever looking away from me. I scoffed irritated, strutting through the door. Unfortunately, there was no one around. No one. Just some minutes ago my own mother, Clara and the guys bantered around and now? Where the fuck has everyone gone to?

"To answer your question, they're gone as you see yourself. I offer to drive you home. You could walk instead, if you want." Cristiano walked past me, showing me his cold shoulder. Burn. I grinned to myself. Guess, someone hurt this baby's feelings. Aw.

"Yeah, as if I would walk right now. My house's about a billion kilometers away from here." I snapped, still smiling. Cristiano peeked over his shoulder, hinting to follow him. A huge touch of relief crossed my body. At least he's not that pissed to let me walk. I followed him out of the main hall, to the elevator, which led us underneath the pitch and stuff to the park lot. It was quite tight in the elevator, and I had to squeeze myself between a guy and Cristiano. He still was ignoring me all the way down to the garage. His slight red lip was sticking out a bit – pouting. Aw. I merely rolled my eyes at the sight of it. As soon as we reached his car, my mouth almost dropped open to the floor. A black Bentley GT Speed.

"Wow." I mouthed, not able to move.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Cristiano smirking smugly. For the first time in 10 minutes, I guess. That must be a record. I have to take notes. He rushed by, clicking open the car with his keys. And strangely enough, holding open the passenger's door for me. I slowly made my way to the door, not daring to look into his eyes. The fact he's still so gentle to me, embarrasses me.

"Thanks." I murmured, while getting in.

"No problem." He shut it, making his way over to the driver's seat. As soon as I sat myself in, a freshly smell of new leather entered my nostrils. Everything seemed so untouched and new and amazing and I have never ever been or even seen such an incredible car. And I'm not into cars at all.

My simple black leggings felt pretty smooth against the cold leather, and the seatbelt didn't even cut into my chest. A plus point. Cristiano sat in himself, putting his high tech keys into the ignition and starting the car. It droned quietly. He made his way out of the parking lot, past some parked cars, turning to the main street. Never breaking eye contact with the street. I leaned back a bit, enjoying the situation. Now and then, glancing out of the corner of my eyes at him. His posture told me how focused he was, while driving. I don't know how and why, but it kind of fascinated me. The way he held the steering wheel with his right hand, and the left one loosely hung out of the opened window. The afternoon's wind freshened up the interior, leaving no place to for small talks. Thank God. Cristiano's eyes darted over to the head unit, his right hand snapped forward, while his left one, held the wheel. Pushing some difficult buttons, a kind of familiar song appeared, feeding the interior with needed action.

'_Would you dance, if I asked you to dance? _

_Would you run, and never look back? _

_Would you cry, if you saw me crying? _

_And would you save my soul, tonight?'_

"I love that song." I mumbled to myself. Unfortunately loud enough. Cristiano turned to face me for some endless seconds, before focusing on the street again. A genuine smile crossed his face.

"Me too." He remarked, tapping his fingers to the beat, on the steering wheel.

'_Would you tremble, if I touched your lips? _

_Would you laugh? _

_Oh please tell me this _

_Now would you die, for the one you love? _

_Hold me in your arms, tonight_

_I can be your hero, baby _

_I can kiss away the pain _

_I will stand by you forever _

_You can take my breath away'_

I rocked my head slightly to the sung words. We drove past several shops, people, who followed us with their surprised gazes. Fortunately for us, the side windows were glazed.

"I'm surprised you know the way to my home, you know?" I announced, as soon as the song ended. His eyes darted to me and then back.

"I've got a good remembering sense, just so you know."

I merely rolled my eyes, trying not to grin. Failing, I burst out of laughter. Cristiano's lips curled into an amused smile. Smartass.

"No, I'm serious. I can even remember the lyrics to that last song. Wait…" He furrowed his eyebrows, focusing. A smile surrounded his lips.

"_Would you dance, if I asked you to dance? _

_Would you tremble, if I touched your lips?_

_Oh, please tell me this_", he sung, grinning. To be honest, his voice sounded angelic.

I laughed even louder now, rocking my head back and forth.

"Noooooo, you've sung it wrong." Giggling. "You switched the lines."

He joined me, chuckling. "It was on purpose, menina."

My smile vanished, as soon as his words reached my ears. Within a second, the air between us tensed up. I shifted in my car, uncomfortably.

"Stop it." I said quietly.

Cristiano's eyes darted to me, as we stopped in front of a red traffic light.

"Stop what?" He asked confused.

I gazed at my clenched hands. "You know what I'm talking about." I mumbled, feeling childish.

"No, I don't. Tell me." Just as quiet as me.

Finally, I dared to look up into his eyes. Yet again, his expression was hard to read. "Stop with all those cheesy hints, okay? It's getting annoying."

His jaw clenched, as his now cold eyes darted back to the street. The traffic light turned green and he stepped on the gas pedal, as hard as possible. Woah.

"What is wrong you, eh?" After several moments of silence, he burst out, sounding impatient and mad.

I pressed my lips together, glaring at him sideways. "Nothing is wrong with me." I snapped back.

He fake laughed, rolling his eyes. "Of course not. First second, you're all happy and the next you're mad. I don't even know how any of your friends deal with it."

My mouth gaped open. "I just got one friend and I'm sure she's fine with it." I hissed, clenching my fists. The moment I uttered down the sentence, his head spun around, eyeing my unbelievable.

"You've got no other friends besides Clara?" He asked suspiciously. I shook my head, taken back. Why did he care, all of a sudden?

"What about a boyfriend? Do you have one?" He tried to sound casual, but his nervously darting looks between me and the street, told another story. I gulped as low as possible. No one ever asked me that, since my mistake with Drew. I kind of dismissed the topic, as soon as someone dared to even start about it.

"No, I don't." I sighed, calming. His body relaxed, and a quick relieved smile scurried across his face.

"Why not?"

I paused for a moment. Biting my lower lip, searching for a believable response.

"Because being single is much more fun. You can play around without feeling bad, because no one is awaiting your return at home." Sounded tight, right? No, I don't think so. Complete lie.

Cristiano scoffed. "As long as you let people in." He simply added. Look, another hint. I seriously got tired of his little games, only he understood.

"How was your ex like, if that's not a secret?" He questioned again, after a few minutes of silence. My heart sunk at this, and my mouth went dry. He was going too far now. Who the hell does he think he is, asking such private things? He doesn't even know anything about me.

"Why do you want to know?" I tried to control myself.

He shrugged. "Just wondering, why in hell he let you go."

Another hint. I sighed again.

"I don't want to talk about it." I said grimly and a bit hurt. Even the only reminder of Drew, disgusted me.

"Will you tell me, sometime later?" Damn, he didn't give up that fast.

"If you drop the topic, yes I will."

"Promise?" He reached out his right hand to me, holding the wheel with his left. I hesitated, before slowly shaking it.

"Promise." We held hands like that for several seconds, before I let go. This got pretty embarrassing and awkward. I leaned back, sighing again.

"I'm sorry for biting you back in the locker room." I murmured, yet again, not looking at him directly. He chuckled lowly, which sounded sexy. Just a bit. Really, just a really bit.

"Don't be sorry. I would have done the same thing." Cristiano responded casually, shrugging off. My eyes widened and I giggled loudly.

"Are you serious?"

"The same thing, just less painful and more sexier. Though, I'm not complaining. I like kinky girls." He winked at me, revealing one of his trade smiles.

I in- and exhaled deeply, smiling fake. "You're a complete asshole, you know that?" I hissed.

His smile grew even wider. "You forgot the arrogant, self-loving bastard." He added sheepishly. I stifled a laugh, smacking his arm.

"Sorry, arrogant, self-loving, bastard and asshole. Alright?" I was pleased with his humor. Any other guy would have been mad at me for a couple of week or something.

He nodded, smiling himself. The silence lengthened itself further more. It was past 2 afternoon, and my stomach rebelled already. I was utterly hungry.

"Wanna play 'Truth or Dare'?" Cristiano suddenly burst out. Raising my left brown in question, I gave him a weird look. How old are we? 12?

"How old are we? 12?" I spoke aloud.

"I wish." He laughed. "Wait, are you scared?" The genuine smile turned into a sheepish one. Almost teasing. I merely gave him a look, shaking my head.

"Definitely not."

"So, why not try? We've got a long drive ahead of us."

I sighed, giving in. "You start then." I positioned myself, as far as it was possible along with the seatbelt, to look at him straight. "You're only able to choose both Truth and Dare only 3 times, and you have to switch, okay?"

He simply nodded. "Go on."

I didn't know what I rid myself into.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

I tapped my chin, faking to think about a pretty pushy answer to ask. "How old were you, when you had your very first time?"

He grinned at me, before focusing on the street again. "17."

I nodded, impressed. Most of my classmates had their first time with 14 or 15.

"Now, it's your turn. Truth or Dare?" He side glanced at me, beaming. Oh, I knew exactly, where this was heading. Not even getting there, smartass.

"Truth."

"Now, now, how old were you, when you had your first time, eh?"

Damnit. Freaking dork. I knew, he would turn the favor. Typical. I merely rolled my eyes at him.

"Nice playing." I pointed at him, receiving another sheepish grin. "I was 19."

"That late?" A smirk spread across his marvelous face. Yo, what the hell are you thinking about? Calm down.

"Better late than never." I smartly remarked. "Truth or Dare?" I went on, ignoring his smug looks.

"Dare."

"Hm…oh, look, the traffic light in front of us is turning red in a second. Will you be able to rush while it just turned red?" I grimaced challengingly. He gave me a self-satisfied look, before pressing down the gas pedal, as hard as possible. I had to keep my balance, as we sped along the street, past the now red traffic light. Some cars honked behind us, screaming insulting words our way.

"I'm impressed." I clapped slightly, chuckling. He bowed down a bit, smiling again.

"You have to choose dare now." He hinted, winking. Just then, I realized what I got myself into. That lying bastard planned it all along. I opened my mouth to protest, but he shook his head.

"I only suggested. But you chose the rules. So, I dare you to climb into the backseat and change into one of my jersey's."

My heart sunk deeply into my leggings. No way. I opened my mouth to protest, but he interrupted me, foreseeing my reaction.

"It's a harsh dare, I know. But that's the revenge for lip biting." He smirked at me, pointing behind me to the tight backseats. I tried to rather control myself. See, I got out of control very easily. Well, being with him made me so aggressive, anyways. I unbelted my belt, turned to face the back of the car, and squeezed myself through the tiny gap, between mine and his seat. He kept driving, watching me through the rearview mirror.

"The jersey's in that white bag."

Popping down onto the middle seat, I reached for the bag and pulled out a red Portuguese jersey, looking pretty new. As I was about to smooth it and put it on, Cristiano chuckled lowly.

"Hey, hey, hey. You think, that's it, do you? Unfortunately not. You have to put off that sweet shirt of yours. Then, I'll give you the permission to put on the jersey, está bem?"

I shook my head rapidly. Running a hand through my ruffled hair. "You liar didn't mention anything about undressing myself. I'm not doing it, simple as that."

"Who said, I play fair?" There were two meanings behind it, I was hundred percent sure. "A dare is dare. Plus, I won't look, promise." He smirked at me in the rear view mirror, beaming.

"I hate you so much. Freaking asshole." I murmured to myself, pretty sure he could hear me. We still drove past buildings, and I impatiently awaited for him to arrive at my house. Stupid bastard. Slipping onto the seat, as far away from him as possible, meaning the right one, I speedily undressed my stripped shirt, revealing a laced, black bra. My face reddened like never before and I tried to hide myself behind my hair, which was falling into my eyes. Bending down a bit, concealing my upper body from him, though I was sure, he couldn't see me. Grabbing the damned jersey, and pulling it over my head hastily. Sighing in relief, I smoothed the soft material, flashing a smugly smile. Just then I glanced into the rear view mirror. My eyes widened in shock. Cristiano was watching me, and his rear view mirror has been positioned completely new. Oh my God. I could see myself in it, still sitting in the right corner. Reaching forward, I smacked his shoulder repeatedly.

"You"-SMACK-"freaking"-SMACK-"bastard"-SMACK-"cheater"-SMACK-"liar"-SMACK-"I hate you". He kept laughing loudly, trying to hold the steering wheel. Suddenly, he turned the car around, and parked in on next to a gas station. Well almost next to one. As soon as he turned off the engine, he unbelted his seatbelt, turned around to face me, meanwhile, I stopped beating the shit out of him. He reached out his arms, and squeezed himself into the back seats too. I was taken aback a bit, at his sudden reaction. He popped down next to me, looking calm, but still grinning. We sat there, staring at each other. Me in complete disbelief and anger. He, teasingly and smugly. Way too smugly.

"Why did you do that?" I hissed, raising my voice. There was no one around. Cars drove by, and we parked in the middle of nowhere. Well, some feet away was a gas station.

"Why did I do what?" Putting on that stupid smirk of his again.

"You watched me getting undressed, you asshole. Even though, you promised not to. How fake is that?!" Trying to control my volume, I took deep in and exhales.

"I couldn't resist. Sorry. I like your bra, by the way." He announced, sassy.

I closed my eyes immediately, squinting. Do not lose yourself, Amanda. Keep it cool. Keep yourself cool. A bra is like a bikini. Calm down, calm down.

"You better shut up, or else, I will beat the shit out of you again." I hissed, still eyes closed. "Your turn. What did you dream about, last night?" Opening my eyes slowly, I eyed him impatiently. He leaned back, having his hands placed on his lap.

"Honestly?" He asked.

I nodded.

"About you."

My heart beat started racing at his words. Out of surprise and and and…Well surprise.

"I…I…wow. What was it about?" I murmured quietly, rubbing my forehead. Trying to rub off my redness. God, that guy freaked me out, for real.

"Not going there. Your turn. Why are you showing up on our games, even though you don't like football? Nor my team, nor any of the teams playing?"

I gulped casually. Flashing a light smile. That was an easy question. "Because Clara forces me to go."

Cristiano grimaced suspiciously. "You're lying."

I raised both of my brows, off-guard. "Why should I? Go on and ask her yourself. And, by the way-"

"I already did." He interrupted. "There were plenty of things, she told me." A smirk was spread across his face. My anger has been put under control, once again.

"And what did she tell you?" I snapped, scared of what may come.

"It's a secret." He winked at me, pursing his lips playfully. "Your turn." His smile grew wider at this words.

I huffed, crossing my arms over my Portuguese clothed chest.

"I dare you to…hm…" He tapped his chin, pretending to think. But I knew exactly, he already planned something horrible for me to work out. "I dare you to…" He paused for drama. "To kiss me."

Ba-dum-chhhhhh.

I shook my head immediately. Way too fast and way too long. This guy's was crazy as hell. Never in a billion of years, I would kiss that prick. The time, where I've been out of my mind, back at my house, doesn't even count, okay? That was not me doing this action, anyways. He was the one who manipulated me, anyways. I shook my head again, his smile grew wider.

"Are you sick or something?" I hissed. "I won't do it, okay?"

He faked pouted. "Aw, are you scared for revenge on lip biting? Don't be."

"You are sick, that's for sure." I snapped at him, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, angrily. Not even going there. No way.

He leaned in, way too near and way too fast for me to react. "Maybe, I am. But I still did your dares, didn't I?"

"That was nothing compared to this."

"Stop acting like it's a big deal. Just a kiss, no hard feelings attached, está bem?"

I shook my head again, stubborn as I was. Even if there were no feelings attached, I wasn't in shape doing this.

"Come on. Just a quick peck. Honestly." A genuine look appeared on his face. He smoothed his styled hair, looking at me questioningly.

I gave in. My bad.

"I swear if…Just one...Quick peck…Doesn't mean anything." I outlined the last word.

Cristiano flashes a sheepish smile, leaning back, relaxing, awaiting my little dare. I turned fully around, pulling up my knees, and popping down on them, for a better position. Just in case. Smoothing my own hair, I leaned in. Mere inches away from his face. We both looked at each other expectantly. I blinked slowly. He closed his eyes, which gave him a rather peaceful look. Biting my bottom lip, I closed my eyes, leaning further in. My lips crushed onto his. His warm ones, enclosed mine. I was about to back off, but his right hand gripped my neck, the left one my hip, embracing me. My own arms, which were entwined behind my back, reached forward, grabbing Cristiano by the collar of his shirt. His left hand, which gripped my hip, slipped down, grasping my clothed thigh. With a light swung, he pulled me onto his lap, positioning me in front of him. Our lips never broke apart. I don't know nor remember, what got into me back then. Once again, his tongue tickled my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I re-opened my lips, like hours before. His tongue slid in, fighting with mine for dominance. We were getting too far. His hands were all over my back, hips, thighs, hair. I, myself, ruffled through his hair, tugging on the collar of his shirt. My jersey has been lifted up a bit, revealing my tummy and my hips. His hands dived under it, pinching my tummy softly. I moaned into the kiss casually, reaching under my shirt, and grabbing his hand. Our fingers entwined together, gripping onto each other like it depended on life. His other hand, caressed my cheek softly. We finally broke apart, breathing heavily. Our chests raised and sunk rapidly.

"Just a peck, eh?" He mumbled against my lips, lickings his own.

"I hate you." I mumbled against his.

"Oh really?" He started to plant wet kisses all over my neck, which made me arch my back in desire. His hand still held mine.

I leaned in again, pressing my lips against his.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, someone told me to stop. Forced me to stop. But this little someone, was way too small to be recognized.

* * *

**sorry for not updating so soon. i am pretty busy with school right now. and only able to post on weekends, as you see. please, have mercy with me haha :) anyways, hope you enjoy the slight twist. i guess you all waited for it somehow. hope you like it :) leave some reviews, if you do. xo**


	10. Chapter 10

I knew it was wrong, what I did there, but the desire fled over me and buried me underneath it. My mind, at least the back of it, forced me to stop, but I didn't have any control over my body anymore. His gentle hands were all over me. My own hands ruffled up his hair uncontrollably. Now and then, we broke apart to catch some breath, our foreheads leaning against those of one another. We still had our clothes on; don't get your hopes up for anything spectacular. It was getting pretty hot in the car, and also pretty tight in the back. As I was still sitting on his lap, almost strangling him. Though, he cooperated very well. Suddenly, his hands which were entwined with me, pulled away and he managed to roll over me. Within seconds the only thing I was able to see, were his quite beautiful eyes. I was practically pressed onto the leather seat, while he bent over me. He positioned his strong arms at both sides of my head, to keep himself off me, as I was pretty sure, he weighed more than me. Like the double size of me. Our chests rose and sunk heavily, our lips were curled into a slight smile. A smile which demonstrated how wrong this actually was. Cristiano's orbs eyed every inch of my face, seeming like he haven't seen me as close as this. Well, he didn't until now. His soft lips were swollen, his perfectly perfect hair was ruffled up now and his neck was painted with tiny red marks. The job of my fingernails, I guess. Natural ones. My own eyes were glued to his swollen lips. And the reminder of the locker room spun around in my head. I was still sorry about biting him that hard. My hand reached out to his face, softly touching his full lips.

"I'm sorry." A whisper escaped my own lips. Cristiano furrowed his eyebrows, signalizing he didn't exactly understand what I meant. I caressed his lips one last time, before pulling away. "For biting you. I mean…" I trailed off. Again, he smiled down at me, shrugging as much as it was possible in his position. He shook his head then, leaning in. Just as he was about to go on with the making out session, I turned away from him. A simple gesture, worth thousands of words. My eyes were squinted, my body tensed up. I didn't know what got into me, but I wanted to go home. Right now. Reopening my eyes, not daring to look his way, shame overcame me within seconds. I wanted out of here. Right now. I placed my hands on his chest upon me, gently pushing him away. He gave in easily, though I didn't know what look was plastered on his face. Cristiano leaned back, popping down onto the seat again. I got up heavily, repositioning myself next to him. We still sat in his Bentley. In the middle of the highway. Near a gas station. The sound of cars driving past buzzed in my ears. I smoothed his jersey on me, never looking up. Still, I could feel his testing glance on me. Pretty awkward. Nobody said anything. The only sound beside the cars driving past, was our relaxed breathing.

"Can you…" I trailed off again. "Can you drive me home now? Please." I begged, finally taking a look at him. His expression, once again, was unreadable. He just nodded once. I nodded in response, before slipping to the side, opening the door and stepping out. A rather cold breeze blew through my hair, through the tiny material of my jersey. It was late in the afternoon but I was pretty sure mom was alright with not knowing where I was at this very moment. It's not like Clara cared for my location either. As long as Cristiano was near me. People drove me, throwing weird looks my way. As if knowing, 'this girl just had a heatedly make-out session with that guy over there, who also happens to be the most famous football star on this entire planet'. Hola paranoia. Cristiano just then stepped out too. Making his way over to the driver seat and getting back in without a word. Ouch. Showing me the cold shoulder again? I really had to sort my mind out. Not knowing what you were up to, in the next thirty seconds, was kind of scary. I mean, of course I had control over myself. But my head liked to drive me crazy with things like those back in the car. Taking in some fresh, clean air, I made my way to the passenger seat. Cristiano's mood was definitely down in the trash. His eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pressed together. Even his posture showed complete…What? Madness? Hatred? Loathing? I don't know why, but it made me smile. Sitting there, smiling like an idiot. His eyes darted back and forth.

"What are you smiling at?"

His sudden reaction surprised me, as we drove in complete silence for several minutes. And the fact his voice was calmer than his whole expression.

"Your facial expression." I shrugged, still smiling. Hoping, I could ease down the awkward situation between us.

"My what?" He chuckled.

"Your face. Like…the way you looked just seconds ago. Mad and angry and full of hate."

"Nah, nah. No hate." He wiggled a finger at me, smiling slightly.

"Okay. You said no hate. But you didn't deny you were mad and angry." I replied, watching him.

He raised his left eyebrow while speaking. Amusing. "I'm not angry or mad. You're just confusing me." He shrugged.

"I am confusing you?!" I almost shrieked out, which caused Cristiano to throw an amused grin at me.

"Yes you are. First, you are cold and distant, the next second you're willing to make out, then you're back cold again." His rather strong accent made this sentence sound like an accusation. Guess it really was. And to be honest, it took me off-guard. A bit. Just a bit. Which is a lie.

"I didn't mean to…No, I didn't…Wait…I really didn't…" I trailed off, helplessly. Just looking at him taken back and hurt? Really, Amanda, you're hurt at those simple words? Just because he spoke the truth? A rollercoaster of feelings. It's not like it was for the first time. I was a complete mess after breaking up with Drew. And not just because of the breakup in general. Cristiano looked at me questioningly.

"Does your all day mood has something to do with your ex?" He asked, out of all sudden. My heart stopped for a second, before increasing its race. I looked back at him, just shrugging. All I was capable of.

Finally, we turned into our street and I could already see our rather light house from afar. I exhaled in relief. We were almost there and that meant, I didn't have to explain myself to him. Yep. We parked on the sidewalk, and I gathered all my things, along with my original shirt. Clutching the collar of Cristiano's jersey, I made him look at me. He shook his head, flashing a seductive smile.

"Keep it. Unless you don't want to, you can change into your own back again." He winked at me playfully. I merely rolled my eyes. Here we go again.

"I'd rather keep it." I hissed, not so serious though.

Opening the door, I wanted to get out, but Cristiano clinged onto my upper arm, holding me back. I threw him a confused glance. The moment lasted only 5 seconds, but I really could do nothing about it. He leaned in and quickly pressed his lips onto mine. 1, 2, 3. As fast as the actual situation reached my brain, he already pulled away, letting go off me. I guess, this guy caught a glimpse of how my own brain works. Smartass. My mouth dropped open, my body tensed up. Cristiano just sat there, all pleased. An amused smirk plastered on his tanned face. Asshole. Seriously. I huffed in loathe, stepping out the car without a last word.

"Goodbye menina." He called out, before I shut open the door with all of my strength. I could still hear him chuckling. Strutting down the sidewalk and up our porch, I didn't dare to throw a glance back. He started his car, driving past me, not without honking once. Throwing a last glare his way, I made my way to the main entrance of our house. My mind played crazy again. My heart was racing uncontrollably. But my pride was burning with hatred, fear and shame. This guy was the end of me. In a worse way.

* * *

**Yes, a rather short, very short in fact, chapter. I am sorry, but I've got some writersblock and school is currently struggling with me over here. I promise to post another chapter this weekend. I promise it will be at least, two words longer. nah, just kidding. we'll see anyways. thank you soooo much for reviewing. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo x (...) xoxoxoxoxoxo**


	11. Chapter 11

It was 5:45am and I was still wide awake. My mind just wouldn't shut up. I guess everyone gets that kind of feeling where you're overanalyzing every so tiny thing about your life. Every single moment, which had you affected. And that was so me right now. I was lying in my bed, cuddled up in my blanket, staring at the pointers of the clock right on my cabinet. 5:47am. The new moon was shining through the gaps of my blinds, casting shadows on the walls and the floor.

Last night, when I arrived home, mom almost jumped on me with all of her questions.

_Wearing a printed apron. She wore cooking gloves and some flour was sticking on her hair. How cute._

"_Wow, you're finally home! How did it go? Don't tell me you ditched him again. Wait, why are you wearing his jersey?" She widened her eyes, before flashing a knowing grin. "You played some football again, didn't you? I wonder how he even forced you to dress into his jersey." She tapped her chin with a glove, pretending to think hardly. "It's not like you like him." Mom continued. _

_I merely rolled my eyes, slinging my bag into the corner of the entrance hall. Heading straight to the kitchen, slamming open the fridge. _

"_I know the reason you're not bothering to answer." She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her gloved-hands. I peeked around the door of the fridge, giving her a dramatically interested look._

"_As a mother, I notice when my kid changes, whatever the reason she does, is. And look at you, you're glowing." She wiggled her eyebrows at me. I just shook my head, signalizing how dumb she really sounded. _

"_Talk to me." She whined, approaching the cabinet, where all of her ingredients for the chocolate chip cookies were located. What a mess. I grabbed a bottle of milk, and shut the door. An empty, rather clean glass stood on the counter. Pouring myself some milk wordlessly, I made my way to the cabinet and sat down on the stool. The fresh, warm cookies were still lying on the plate. My tummy churned as I grabbed a single cookie and but the half of it off, rinsing the single crumbs with a large gulp of milk._

"_You know," I began, chewing. "The reason behind the jersey is…" I scanned my brain for a believable lie. "Well, we kind of…Um…drove past McDonalds and Cristiano-guy wanted something to eat, so we ordered some food and anything to drink. While he directed the car, he didn't really pay attention to the traffic lights. He abruptly stopped and my coke just spilled itself all over my shirt. I had no other choice than to dress into his shirt. Well, jersey, to be exact. That's it." I shrugged, biting onto my bottom lip. Hoping mom would catch on that lie. She smiled, shaking her head softly._

"_You dork, seriously." She reached out, running a hand through my messy hair. What made me think of a walk to the hairdresser soon. I smiled at her, relaxing in relief. Suddenly, Mario sprinted in, looking around. _

"_Yo, yo, yo, calm down!" I yelled as he almost bumped into the fridge. He stopped abruptly, just then realizing he wasn't the only one around. To be honest, my brother was one of the beautiful guys out there. And I won't ever admit it straight to his face, as cocky and sly he is. He was definitely taller than me, had short, dark hair and a quite trained figure. A bit tanned, as he always was outside, doing whatsoever. Just returning early in the morning with a hangover. Mom didn't care. At least she was a tiny bit good at pretending. Mario's 23, not much older than me either. Now and then, when I couldn't fall asleep, I toddled through the dark house and noticed how mom's room was lightened up. She did worried about him. We never knew when and if he will return home. Much of a partier. Though, my natural hair color was rather dark too, I colored it into a middle brown. The only thing we shared, besides our eye color, was our stubbornness. In fact, mom had a hard life watching over us. _

"_Oh, I thought you both were out." He uttered down, completely out of breath. He wore a wore-out shirt and some trainers. Barefoot. His hair was all messed up and there were huge circles surrounding his eyes. _

_Mom lifted her gloved hands onto her hips, giving him the eye. "What time did you return home?" _

_Mario scratched the back of his head nervously. "Um…like 11pm. But I'm sure you haven't heard me because you both were asleep." _

_Mom raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Don't try your shit on me, Mario. I know exactly when you got home. It was exactly 7:13am."_

"_What the fuck, mom?! I'm old enough to come home whenever I want to."_

"_Not unless you still live under my roof!"_

"_I told you several times, I will move out as soon as I make some savings."_

"_How are you supposed to 'make some savings' when you're out partying twenty-four seven?"_

"_Mind your own business!" He merely rolled his eyes. _

"_Don't you dare talking to your own mother like that! Shame on you for losing your respect for me. That's not the way I raised you." _

"_Oh, please. I just told you to mind your own business. I'm not a kid anymore." _

"_Wait, until your father hears about this." She wiggled a finger at him, dangerously. _

_Mario let out an irritated exhale. "Seriously, go and tell him. It's not like he will care anyways. His work is much more important than his family issues." With those words he stormed off. Leaving a tense silence behind him. And me stuck in-between. I glanced at mom, who had a quite hurt look on her face. She sighed, shaking her head mechanically. _

"_He's right." She popped onto the stool next to me, burying her face into her gloves. "Your father is never home when needed." _

_I furrowed my brows, licking the dry corners of my lips. Almost choking on my spit, as I remembered Cristiano's lips on mine. Jesus Christ. Not now, seriously. _

"_Mom, just don't listen to him. He was raging, of course he would have said something like that." I murmured, reaching out and tucking some loose strands of Mom's hair behind her ear._

"_Amanda, it's not about his anger. He was right about Paul being absent every freaking day. I know we both work hard, and he still works harder than any of us, but still a bit free time for his family won't harm, right?"_

_I nodded, speechless. In fact, she really was right. The one time I get to see my dad is Sundays. The only day he gets off. And I did miss him. _

_I didn't know what to say to make her feel better. _

"_Look, what about we both let loose and go shopping tomorrow? We hadn't had proper mother-daughter days since forever."_

_She looked up at me, smiling gently. "That'd be awesome." _

_I just nodded, enclosing her in my arms. _

"_I love you, Amanda." She whispered into my own hair._

"_I love you too, Mom."_

That's practically what happened, before I got upstairs and just collapsed onto my bed. I woke up about 11pm, got undressed and slipped back into my bed. But just then, I couldn't manage to fall asleep once again.

Yesterday's happenings wouldn't leave me alone. I was pretty mad at myself for going too far. Like, how in hell would I expect that bastard go further and dare me to 'just peck him on the lips'. I should've known he was up to something. But I wasn't that mad at him, than at myself. In fact, I should have just ditched him in the locker room and go home by foot or bus. Because he's the reason I couldn't fall asleep right now. The way he touched my face back there. The way he didn't give up on me and had the patience to deal with my moody self, kind of surprised me. I actually frightened off every boy who dared to cross my way. On purpose. Still, how could I consent to play 'Truth or Dare' with him. Like how many times did I read some articles about him, of his weekly flirts all around the world? I definitely couldn't count it up on my ten fingers. Not that I actually cared. Freaking, arrogant player. And not just a football player. I bet he has a list going around, writing down the names of the girls he managed to have sex with, within 3 days. Nu-uh, not even going there. Bet he thinks I'm just one of them, eh? Sorry to burst your bubble, Mister Ferrari. Another weave of pure loath was about to bury me underneath itself. I sat up straight, taking several deep inhales. It was 6:15am. I was sure, I wouldn't fall asleep in the next 4 hours, so I got up off bed and made my way to the bathroom. A shower is the best thing to set your mind straight. The gentle material of my carpet tickled my bare feet. My loose sleeping shirt was revealing one of my shoulders, as I tapped into the bath. Turning on the bright lights, which burned my eyes for some endless seconds. As my orbs got used to the cutting luminosity, I headed over to the sink. Almost choking on my spit, when I saw myself in the mirror, hanging above the sink. My eyes were swollen and had huge circles surrounding them. My hair eked out in all different directions. My lips were still a bit swollen too, but my neck looked the worst. Tiny, dark marks covered it.

"What the…No way!" I hissed in shock. Yes, my neck was covered with hickeys. With dark spots. I leaned in, to have a better look on them. Hickeys, for real. Oh my Goodness. How the hell did they get there? I didn't…

"Fuck no!" I shrieked, before shutting my mouth with my own hand. Cristiano. Who else? I ran a free hand through my messy hair, trying to calm down. No way, no way, no way. It was all my fault, I just shouldn't have went too far. Like, I seriously should have just left the car once he watched me getting dressed into his jersey. Pervert bastard. I was breathing heavily, and cold sweat was running down my spine. Desperately scratching on my neck, trying to get those disgusting marks off me. The back of my eyes pinched dangerously, as I stood there impatiently, rubbing my neck heatedly. The reason why I was so eager on letting those spots vanish was because they strongly reminded me of Drew. He was the last one to ever leave such marks behind. And they didn't feel like love bites at all. In fact, his uncontrollable anger left such similar looking spots behind. The time he let out all of his rage and fury on me. And now these hickeys just looked like another track of Drew's. A silent sob escaped my lips, as I turned on the faucet, bent down and splashed some cold over on my heated face. It felt like my memories flushed into the outflow within some seconds. Sniffing a bit, I reached for the towel, while rising back up. Drying off my face, I looked into the mirror again. My eyes turned a bit red, and I was pouting without actually realizing.

"Fuck everything." I murmured to myself, before stripping off my panties and my shirt and stepping into the shower cabin. Turning on the hot water, made me relax immediately. I just stood there for about 5 minutes, heavily leaning against the tiled wall, before piling myself together and finally getting the shower job on. My coconut shampoo managed to brighten up my mood, and the soft, fluffy material of my sponge helped me to ease my tense shoulders. All in all, I stepped out pretty relieved and a bit happier than minutes ago.

Drying off my hair and tightening the towel around my body, I headed out of the bathroom directly to my large wardrobe. As it still was pretty early, about 6:55am, I decided to put on something comfortably.

Suddenly, heavy and sluggish footsteps made their way up the stairs. I stopped still, listening closely. Someone cleared their throat while walking past my room. I hurried and slowly turned the know, opening the door ajar. A dark silhouette gathered in front of Mario's room. Merely rolling my eyes, I opened the door widely, peeking around the frame.

"You dork, luckily mom hadn't noticed your absence. Cause she's pretty pissed due to the fight." I whispered, loud enough for the figure to hear. Mario turned around, flashing a sheepish smile.

"Shhh." He shushed me, wiggling a finger. Oh dear, he was intoxicated. Making his way over to my opened door, he leant in.

"You know," A strong weave of alcohol drifted into my nostrils. I scrunched my nose, licking my lips irritated. "I don't care if she's pissed." Mario babbled, swaying a bit. He had a plaid shirt on, dark denim shorts and rocking some vans. Though, his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his bare chest. A long scratch coined it. Ouch.

"God, you're drunk." I announced, wagging in front of me with my free hand. He shrugged, smiling with squinted eyes.

"What you doing?" He mumbled, pointing at my towel, which was still wrapped around my body.

I merely rolled my eyes. "What does it looks like? I just showered and was about to get dressed when you walked past." I hissed.

Suddenly, a harsh cough came from mom and dad's bedroom. We both shushed for some seconds, fearing mom would show up.

"Get in here, you idiot." I clinged into Mario's upper arm and tugged him in, lowly closing the door behind us. He almost sprinted right onto my unmade bed, collapsing on it like I did last night. I shook my head, watching him.

"Unbelievable." I sighed, returning to my wardrobe, still searching for something to get dressed in.

Mario rolled around, facing the ceiling.

"Why are you up so early?" He mumbled, clearing his throat.

I peeked over my shoulder, giving him the eye. "Because I couldn't sleep, unless you, running around town getting drunk."

"Oh, shut up." He responded, chuckling lightly. I turned around to fully face him. He sat up straight, well at least he tried, because he still was as drunk as minutes ago.

"Don't you tell me to shut up, when you yourself are full of this disgusting drink people these days love so much and I won't-"

"What is that on your neck?" Mario interrupted me, squinting his eyes, pointing at my neck. Oh God. Just then I noticed that I didn't covered my marks with any make up. Quickly as possible, I ran a hand through my wet hair, letting them fall onto my shoulders and at least cover something.

I didn't even had a chance to respond, as Mario already stood in front of me, grabbing me by my shoulders. He leant in, lifting up my chin a bit.

"Who?" He hissed out. I backed away a bit, clenching my teeth.

"It's not what you think." I pressed out.

His face hardened, his jawline too. It felt like he automatically turned sober.

"Is Drew back in town?" He hissed, taking my hand in his and observing my tiny figure, searching for other signs of violence. Little did he know, there was no brutality intended. My heart froze at the mention of him. I shook my head mechanically.

"Mario, calm down. It's not what it looks like." I murmured, embarrassed by the actual truth.

"What does it looks like, then?" He asked, pulling some strands of my hair away, to reveal my full neck. Pressing his lips together, he backed away a bit, breathing heavily. "I swear to God, if that bastard showed up and even dared to look at you, I-"

"These are simple hickeys, okay? Stop overreacting. Drew's, thank God, not in town." I finally admitted, blushing immediately. Mario furrowed his brows in confusion, tilting his head a bit.

"What?"

I rolled my eyes impatiently, rubbing my face to get rid of its redness. I was sure he could see it.

"Hickeys, okay? Just hickeys."

"How you got them?" His voice sounded more calm and controlled, though his posture revealed a bit of anger und suspicion.

"Mario, seriously. How do you get hickeys?" I rolled my eyes at him again. It got more and more awkward. Like, how dumb can he get? It wasn't in my intention to admit who the hickey-criminal was.

His lips formed a perfect 'O', before he calmed down completely. Bursting out of laughter, he fell back onto my bed.

"Shut up, or you will wake mom and dad up. And they both got to wake up for work in a few hours!" I hissed, walking over and shushing him with my hand. He still managed to chuckle through my hand. His eyes were gleaming with amusement.

"Ai cun't belayf sumun woold evan tuch yu!" Mario mumbled through my hand, holding his tummy while snickering. I pulled my hand away, looking down at him on confusion.

"What?"

"I said, I can't believe someone would even touch you. You're like pushing every guy away." He stated, still snickering.

I merely rolled my eyes at him, though his statement got to me. Chewing on my bottom lip, I glared down at him. Clenching my fist. In fact, he said the truth, which angered me even more.

"Wanna know who I made out with?" I hissed.

He nodded, grinning.

"Cristiano fucking Ronaldo. Ever heard of him?"

His smile vanished, and his eyes widened.

Suddenly, he burst out in laughter again, this time much louder than before.

"As if I'd believe you. Nice one!" He mumbled through the laughter. Closing my eyes and taking some deep inhales, I was interrupted by a familiar sound. Like an alarm. Oh my.

Mario turned silent, clearly hearing the noise too. It finished ringing and someone coughed loudly. Oh shit.

"Dad's awake. But why? It's like 7:30 and he doesn't get up until 9." I hissed. Mario got up abruptly, making his way to my door.

"I better get going back to bed before he catches me in that condition." Mario whispered, slowly opening up the door and tip toeing out of my room. I slightly shut it after him.

I wouldn't get yelled at for being up that early. In fact, I am old enough, okay?

Picking out something to wear – finally – I got dressed. Just then, I heard someone walk past my door, coughing again. Dad. Bet he went downstairs for a cup of coffee before heading to work. But that early? Maybe it's something urgent today. He worked as a surgeon, away 24/7. Except Sunday's.

I thought about accompanying him down in the kitchen, as my phone, which lied on my cabinet, buzzed loudly. Announcing a new text message.

I sprinted over to one right side of my bed, picking up my iPhone.

_You have a new text message. _

_From __unknown._

Unknown? There still was a number underneath the picture less icon.

I pressed '_open_'. Wondering who in hell would send me a message in the early morning.

'_**good morning nena. hope you got home well ;) just wanted to let you know that i will pick you up at 8pm tonight. dress into something nice. Beijos Cristiano'**_

My mouth dropped open, and I almost dropped my phone. What in Jesus' name was that? How the hell did he get my number? What did he mean with picking me up at 8? What the? What the serious hell? He didn't mention something about a "date" last night? I was sure, I would collapse out of non-understanding and confusion.

For real, this guy was the end of me.

* * *

**as I promised - a much longer chappy. Hope you like this one xo**


	12. Chapter 12

Shutting the door behind me, I plunked down my hand bag onto the floor, while heading straight into the kitchen. I was tired as hell, and it felt like every single bone of mine hurt like an elephant tramped on me. My hair looked a mess, my clothes didn't fit each other, several pimples covered my actually beautiful skin. Guess that's the price you have to pay for staying up all night. Mom wasn't home yet, she went shopping as she told me before I went to work. Dad was working. Mario, well, he's Mario. He could be at home, which was quite surprising, or out like usually. I opened up the fridge, observing the content hungrily. Grabbing a salad from yesterday and some bread, I sat myself onto the stool by the counter. Not even cleaning my hands, I took the fresh smelling piece of bread into my fingertips and snapped off.

"Mmm…" I mumbled, enjoying the taste of it, like I never did before.

My day at the grocery store was tiring, boring and nerve-racking. Every single customer mocked me. At least, that's how I saw it. But in fact, I was so out of my own mind, the only thing I did was bitching around about every single thing.

In addition to that horrible noon, I didn't really get to drink and small talk with Dad in the morning. To be honest, my mood changed the exact moment I read Cristiano's message. Not so positive anymore. He practically ruined my day, alright? And he rather shouldn't get his hopes up, because I won't go anywhere with him tonight. Nor tomorrow, nor next week. My mood loafed around in the trash, seriously.

"What you doing?" A sudden voice interrupted my thoughts. The bitten piece of bread left in my hand, fell out as I jumped in surprise, almost chocking on the tomato I currently chewed on. Mario's huge hand patted my back, as I coughed my lungs out.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Why did you sneak on me?" I hissed, the second I stopped coughing. Mario reopened the fridge, taking the pack of milk and directly drinking out of it.

"Why not taking a cup instead? You're not the only one living here." I spat irritatingly.

He stopped in action, eyeing me curiously.

"Wow, what happened with you, Frankenstein? You look horrible." He announced, shutting the fridge and leaning casually against it.

"You don't look better yourself." I responded harshly, smoothing the mop of my hair.

"Ouch!" Mario threw me an amused glance, clearly enjoying my bad mood. "Well, you're right, I don't look good either, but it's not me who has been pretty unicorns and rainbows this morning. What's wrong?"

I merely rolled my eyes, burying my tired face in my hands. Taking deep in- and exhales. "I'm tired, that's it." Snapping up and taking a rather close look at Mario. In fact, he indeed looked better than hours before. Though, the scratch upon his chest was still there.

"How you got it?" I pointed loosely at his V-neck shirt.

He glanced down at himself, casually tugging on his shirt. A smirk spread across his familiar face. "Girls like to get a bit kinky, y'know?"

"Oh please, spare me the truth." I shook myself a bit, imagining on how Mario got some last night. Jesus Christ.

"Where's Mom?" He suddenly asked, raising both of his eyebrows in question. I rose up from my seat, heading to the sink where I put the now-empty bowl in. Turning around and leaning against the counter, I tiringly crossed my arms.

"She went shopping." I shrugged casually, rubbing one of my reddened eyes.

Mario nodded wordlessly, eyeing me closely. "You should go and get some rest." He murmured, walking out of the kitchen, into the direction of our living room.

Guess that's what I'm gonna do then, I thought myself. Shambling out of the kitchen myself, I headed up the stairs but stopped midst of them. Peeking over my shoulder at Mario, who was relaxing on the leather couch, smirking satisfied at something.

"Oh, and Mario?"

He caught my attention, raising his brows in question, once again.

"Do not open up the door unless it's mom or dad. Or even Clara. Okay?"

His eyebrows furrowed themselves upon his eyes. "Why?"

I exhaled impatiently. "Just don't." With these words, I ran up the stairs directing to my room. Silently shutting the door behind me, I stripped down the working clothes and putting some comfortable trains and a loose, one-shouldered shirt on. I didn't make my bed this morning, good for me. Slipping into the cold material, and curling my knees up to my chin, I closed my eyes and immediately fell into the kingdom of dreams.

_Everywhere I saw, his face haunted me. His hands upon my neck, his fists upon my face. _

"_Where are you going?"_

"_I'm leaving you."_

"_No, you ain't! Come back!" Here we go again. Hair tugging, kicking, beating. Everything at a time. _

_And I fell…_

_Deep…_

_Into the sea of brutal hands reaching for me. Their claws made me cringe and I screamed in fear._

_I ran for life. Ran. And ran. Running my feet bloody. _

"_Holy shit!" I yelled out. _

"_Holy shit!" Again._

"_Cristiano fucking Ronaldo just knocked on my fucking door!"_

_Uh…what?_

My eyes shut open. It was dawning already and the yells downstairs wouldn't stop at that point. My head spun around, looking for the digital digits of my clock, next to my bed. 7pm. Who in hell would yell that loud? A quick shock stroked my mind.

I indeed just dreamt about Drew. My heart immediately increased its race, pounding against my chest heavily.

"Come in, come in!" I jerked a bit, at the sudden noise downstairs. Once again. And this voice was fairly familiar to me. Mario, who else? Irritation overcame me. Why in hell would he scream all of a sudden? He didn't get drunk again, did he? Nah, impossible. He stayed home, last time I saw him. And that was before I went back to rest. It means, he could of have been somewhere and just got home. Bet he brought a chick with him. Oh please.

"Yeah, she's upstairs." Mario uttered down, now more lowly. But loud enough for me to actually hear his sayings. I rolled over my bed, raising up, stretching me tense spine. Perking up, as heavy footsteps made their way up the stairs.

I remained silent, not daring to move. My mind spun around. Who in hell came over to visit us? I don't even-

A loud knock interrupted my slight thoughts. I tip-toed straight to my door, leaning in and pulling the knob, opening it ajar. Mario's bright eyes met mine, he flashed a somehow excited grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What?" I hissed lowly, widening my door. He was clearly beaming at me, and couldn't stand still at all.

"You won't believe who just came over and I almost pissed my pants and-" He spat excitedly like a 12-year old.

"Just spit it out already. I was about to go back to bed, you see?" I looked like a total mess. My trains were slipping down my hips and again, the waistband of my panties revealed itself. In addition to that embarrassment, I stripped off my bra before going to rest, because it would have been very uncomfortable. So now, my one-shouldered shirt was sticking onto my upper body and I was 100% sure, anyone on this entire plant could tell, I wasn't wearing a bra. But since it was just Mario in front of me, I didn't care.

Mario merely rolled his eyes at me, pointing downstairs. "Go and see yourself."

Murmuring some cursive words under my breath, I stepped out into the illuminated corridor, stomping along it, followed by my super annoying brother. My polished toe nails sparkled at touching the carpeted material, leading me down the stairs. The inside of my nostrils itched dangerously, tickling. The moment I landed in the entrance hall, my mood not only changed radically, but it sent out a complete weird information right to my mad brain.

I covered my mouth, squinting my eyes and leaning in a bit.

"Aaaaaa-choooooo!"

"Bless you." A quite familiar, husky voice uttered down. Dear God, if you really do exist, please do not let it be him. Sniffing, while doubtfully opening each of my eyes and casually searching for the source of that voice.

Suuuuuuuure.

There he stood, all in his fake halo. My tummy churned at the sight of him.

Cristiano calmly stood in the back of the entrance hall, having his arms crossed. The moment I entered the hall, he uncrossed his clothed arms and approached me with a flashing smile.

"I already thought about you not being-" He raised his voice, but as harsh as I am, interrupting him was necessary.

"What are you doing here? And who let you in?" I myself crossed my arms upon my braless breasts. The smile on Cristiano's face vanished as soon as he noticed my tenseness. Again, the unreadable look on his beautiful face gained the upper hand. His jawline clenched several times, as we stood there in complete silence. Mario shifted right behind me, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Cristiano opened his full lips to remark, his eyes darted to something or someone behind me.

"I let him in, just for your information." Mario announced loudly. Way too loud.

I slowly detached myself out of that weird triangle, so getting a better view on both of them.

"And may I know why? You don't even know him, do you?" I spat at Mario, who winced slightly at my suddenly harsh tone.

"Yo, why so cold? Is it because I waked you up? If that's the reason you're being a complete bitch right now, I am sorry." Mario raised his hands as in a sincere apology. Cristiano didn't say anything, he just kept drilling through me with his unreadable eyes.

I merely rolled my eyes at Mario's statement. In fact, I wasn't that mad he woke me up. It was just cause that twit indeed opened the Goddamn door, even though I strictly forbid him to do so. What an idiot.

My eyes wandered from Mario to Cristiano, who still was standing there silenced. The corners of my lips twitched slightly, as I took a closer look at him. He was dressed in a white long sleeved shirt, which revealed his trained upper body, dark denim pants and rocking some also dark shoes. Looks like he thinks highly on his public appearance.

"I see you're not dressed." Cristiano stated calmly, eyeing my tiny figure. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion at him. I am dressed, what is he even talking about? Uncrossing my arms and raising them a bit, I looked down at me irritated. Fully dressed, well expect any socks.

"Of course I am dressed. What does it look like I'm wearing?" I hissed.

Cristiano rolled his eyes, never meaning to come off as mad or angry. A smile spread across his face.

"I meant dressed as in something more casual. We're going out, just so you know. Didn't you get my message this morning?" A confused wrinkle appeared in between his eyebrows. I stifled a grin, while shaking my head, acting innocently.

"No, I didn't. What a pity we can't go." I sighed playfully, pouting a bit. Mario locked eyes with mine, looking right through me. I'm sure he knows I was bullshitting.

"Well, I was supposed to show up at 8." He took a look at his expensive watch. "It's 7:30. I already know you good enough, to predict, you would resist on going out with me. That's why I came much earlier. You've got half an hour to dress."

My mouth dropped open and all I could do was stare at him in disbelief. Did this guy really think I would go on a date with him?

"Who said I was even going?" I hissed, getting moody again.

A knowing smirk spread itself across Mario's face. Guess he really did know me. "Oh, Amanda, don't bitch around for once and go get dressed." He rolled his eyes, patting Cristiano's back. "Sorry, bro. She's not always like that."

Cristiano nodded, flashing a slight smile. "I'm getting used to it. In fact, if I was a female, I couldn't resist myself neither. Completely understandable." He shrugged casually. All out of sudden Mario erupted in loud laughter, clapping hands with Cristiano.

I raised both of my brows in disbelief, watching both of them. What the hell was going on?

"That was a good one, bro. Seriously. You know, I think you're right. She's just way too proud to show how flattered she actually is. That's the way women these days are." Mario uttered down, grinning sheepishly.

I shifted impatiently, watching their stupid conversation and how fast they found a common topic to talk about. Way too stupid.

I wanted to smartly remark on Mario's latest comment, which was utter bullshit but Cristiano interrupted me.

"You really think she doesn't really mean it with all these curses she throws at me?" Cristiano asked, acting all thoughtfully.

"Of course, dude. I've caught her daydreaming once. Pretty intense, I tell ya." Mario mouthed back. They both erupted in laughter, completely leaving me out of the conversation.

I was getting mad. Hella mad. Who does Cristiano think he is? Walking into our house and making fun of me? Like the what hell were they both talking about? Mario did not catch me daydreaming, this is utter bullshit. Utter, utter, bullshit.

"You guys, I'm still here." I raised my voice, spatting each syllable out. They turned their heads to me, as if seeing me for the first time. My eyes were burning holes into those of Cristiano's. He seemed calm.

"Get dressed." He said quietly, almost as if the jokes with Mario never happened.

I stood my ground. "There is no reason for me to go out with you. End of conversation." I turned into the direction of the stairwell. "This is way too childish for me to handle. See ya." With these last words, I made my way up the stairs, but couldn't go further as a huge hand grabbed me by my shirt, holding me back. I almost tripped over my bare feet. Spinning my head around, Cristiano was standing right behind me, gripping the loose end of my shirt. Once again, the look on his face was unreadable.

"Let go off me." I hissed.

He shook his head wordlessly, gripping tighter. Then, I turned around to fully face him, reaching for the little material he gripped like it depended on life. Our hands touched and sent out a complete surprising set of sparkles between us. My heart started pounding at its fullest and I feared it would have been too loud. Both of our looks were glued to the material we both were holding. I was the first to let go. Like I've been hit by an electric shocker.

Cristiano let go off my loose shirt, having a confused and thoughtful look plastered on his face. I was about to say something to out tense the situation, but just shrugged it off my mind and doubled back.

Again someone gripped me, but this time by my wrist, holding on gently. But tight as not to let me run away. I stood still, trying to calm myself. The Lord was definitely testing me right now. I took deep breaths, tucking a messy strand of hair behind my ear, still not facing Cristiano. To my utter horror, his grip slid down my wrist and he clasped onto my hand. I gulped lightly, preparing to bitch at him any second.

Peeking over my shoulder, I sent some death-glares his way but faltered at the look on his face. He beamed at me pleadingly, his lips, which I happened to snog less than two days ago, were pressed together. I didn't see such a quite intense look on his face once and it kind of scared me. His warm fingertips began to gently massage mine. This had such an effect on me, I even forgot we were standing almost in the middle of our entrance hall.

Someone cleared their throat nonchalantly. And the weird magic between me and him was destroyed in the blink of an eye. Both of us let go off each other, like we touched a burning match. We both peeked over at Mario, who leaned against a wall, watching us in amusement.

I blushed slightly. Just a bit. Really. It bugged me how Mario caught us in our intense moment.

"You both really should get a room." He chuckled at his own joke.

I merely rolled my eyes at him, not realizing how deep my blush got by then. Flipping him off, I turned to face Cristiano, who didn't really pay attention to Mario, but still the corners of his lips twitched into a light smile.

"I…I'll be right back." I murmured. With these words I sounded off upstairs. Finally. Now, I just need to pick anything to get dressed. As fast as possible. My mind drifted back to the moment seconds ago. Something in Cristiano's face just forced me to give in and go out. Something I couldn't quite figure out.

As soon as I re-entered my room and flicked on the light, never ending hurry took over my body. Undressing myself within mere seconds, running around completely naked. I hoped I made sure to lock the door.

"Shit, shit, shit…" My voice trailed off as I rushed into my bathroom, untying my bum of hair and stepping into the shower. I almost slipped on the wet, smooth surface of the showering cabin. Turning the faucet on and cleaning myself as fast as it was possible.

In the end it took me only 6 minutes to shower and dry my hair. Record time. Wrapping the huge towel around my dripping wet body, I made my way to my wardrobe, ripping open the door and hastily searching for anything 'nice' to dress into. Tapping my feet impatiently, I picked out an old, white and rare Chiffon Bandeau dress, which I happened to buy for my 19th Birthday party, 2 years ago. I wasn't that sure it would fit me anyways. Slipping into fresh, fitting underwear, dropping the wet towel to the floor, not caring to pick it up again. Lucky me, I've shaved my legs yesterday in the morning, because if they were all hairy and disgusting right now, it would take me more time to get ready. I was in such a rush, thinking about my decision was completely out of order. Putting the tiny dress on, I stepped in front of my large mirror.

"Not bad. Still fitting. Thank God." I murmured to myself, viewing my own reflection. My rather dry hair, surrounded my pale white face.

"Naaah…" With these words, I grabbed my new mascara and put a little on, adding a bit gloss. Pouting a bit, as testing how it actually looked like. I nodded in relief. Throwing a look towards one of my huge windows, noticing the light pink mixed with orange colored heaven. The sun set down. Great. Really. Because it meant, going out with just a short dress would be cold enough to catch a cold. Slowly turned back around in irritation, approaching my wardrobe again. Several blazers and jackets were placed on the shelf among all of my shirts and pants. I tapped my chin thoughtfully, imaging myself in some jackets I possessed. Stretching out both of my hands, I grabbed a light blue, short jeans jacket, which seemed quite fit able, as it had long sleeves. Putting some black flats on, which looked quite old and dusty. It was 7:56 already. Not being able to do something with my hair, as I ran out of time, I just ran my hand through them several times. Checking myself in the mirror for the last time, and sounding off downstairs.

Stumbling down the stairs in hurry, I finally landed in the entrance hall again. Empty. Raising both of my brows in confusion, I looked around briefly.

"Crap!" I heard someone curse. Well, it wasn't 'someone'. It was just Mario and it seemed like his voice came off the kitchen. My mind was drifting around, and I paid attention as not to run into a doorframe or anything dangerous, which could really hurt me. Slowly tiptoeing into the kitchen, where the most noise came from, my heart started to race without a particular reason.

There, casually sitting on a stool, as if the whole world belonged to him, was Cristiano. His arms were crossed, revealing some heavy packed arms. He was merely grinning, watching Mario rummaging in the fridge, telling him a story. As quiet as possible, I leant against the frame of the door, playing with my tiny purse, watching the whole situation from afar. You could tell Mario was still a bit of-guard having the most famous footballer, being present in our house, in Croydon, England. And it seemed like Cristiano enjoyed the thought of it.

"And I went completely mad. And this guy just laughed me and the next thing I remember was how all of these people around us shouted my name", Mario uttered down, trying to impress Cristiano with whatever he was telling him.

He looked up at Cristiano, opening his mouth to utter down another stuff he was about to say, when he captured my presence. He raised up from squatting and flashed a smile, nodding at me. That gesture made Cristiano turn around into my direction. His eyes met mine for some seconds, before they traveled down my tiny figure. Within seconds, I felt uncomfortable, with him looking at me like that. A deep blush crept onto my face, while a genuine smile crept onto his. My hair was a mess, the dress was too short, the flats didn't even fit, I looked horribly pale, there was no make-up on my face, which would at least ease my blush. Ugh.

I made a weird gesture, pointing behind my back.

"I…I…We're ready to go…" I stuttered, which made me look more like a complete fool. Oh dear Lord. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could guess Mario grinning sheepishly. He could see right through me, that idiot.

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**yeah, well there i am with another boring chapter. i've been PRETTY absent for months and just like written a few sentences once a week because grade 11th stared and it's all been raining down and me and shit. no writersblock tho just way too busy. and well, if you keep reviewing - i will have more and more inspiration to get going with this story. xo**

**thank you.**


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